THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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ENGLISH  WAYS  AND 
BY-WAYS 


BEING  THE 

LETTERS   OF   JOHN   AND   RUTH   DOBSON 

WRITTEN  FROM  ENGLAND 

TO  THEIR  FRIEND,  LEIGHTON  PARKS 


'  For  me,  an  aim  I  never  fash — 
I  rhyme  for  fun." 

— BUBNS. 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1920 


COPTMOHT,    1920,    BT 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  October,  1920 


ComilGHT,  1J20,  BY  THE  ATLANTIC  MONTHUV  CO. 


e 


y 

TO 

E.   S.  P. 

WHO   KNOWS   JOHN  AND  RUTH   DOBSON 

AB   WELL  AS   I   DO  AND   CAN   BEAR  WITNESS  TO  THB 

THXJTH  OF  THIS  NARRATIVE 

"ENGLISH   WAYS  AND   BY-WAYS " 

IB  AFFSCTIONATELT  DEDICATED 


1362025 


PREFACE 

What  this  little  book  contains  the  reader  must 
discover  for  himself.  I  shall  not  save  him  trouble 
by  teUing  in  the  Preface  anything  about  it.  Nor 
shall  I  tell  more  than  the  letters  themselves  show 
as  to  the  identity  of  John  and  Ruth. 

It  is  a  book  with  a  Purpose.  The  purpose 
being  to  give  the  reader  the  same  pleasure  that  I 
had  in  compiling  it  when  debarred  for  a  time 
from  more  serious  work. 

I  am,  however,  not  without  hope  that  this 
humorous  record  of  the  impressions  of  two  young 
and  unconventional  Americans  of  the  England  be- 
fore the  dreadful  war  may  do  a  little  to  lessen  the 
tension  which  the  nervous  strain  of  the  last  few 
years  has  unhappily  produced,  and  so  help  to 
that  mutual  understanding  and  sympathy  upon 
which  the  welfare  of  the  world  depends.  The  test 
of  friendship  is  sympathetic  banter,  and  is,  more- 
over, a  firmer  cement  than  solemn  speech. 

My  thanks  are  due  to  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for 
permitting  the  use  in  book  form  of  some  passages 
in  this  chronicle  which  appeared  as  articles  in  that 
magazine. 

L.  P. 

Point-au-Pic,  Quebec, 
August,  1920. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  The  Legacy 3 

II.  The  School  of  Instruction  ....  9 

III.  "Fool  Proof" 14 

IV.  "Der  Kaiser  Wilhelm  der  Zweite"    .  17 
V.  The  Car  Arrives 21 

VI.  The  Great  North  Road 26 

VII.  The  England  op  Fielding      ....  31 

VIII.  The  End  of  the  North  Road    ...  35 

IX.  An  English  Interior 40 

X.  Husband  and  Wipe 44 

XI.  The  Fourth  Speed 54 

XII.  "  Jael  the  Wife  of  Heber  the  Kenite  "  .  60 

XIII.  "As  It  Was  in  the  Beginning".     .     .  65 

XIV.  Rural  England 71 

XV.  Education 79 

XVI.  A  By-Election 85 

XVII.  Sheep-Dogs 89 

[  ix  ] 


CONTENTS 

PAQE 

XVni.  Bkigands  and  Bootblacks      ....  95 

XIX.  The  Piston-Rod 100 

XX.  Falstaff 107 

XXI.  The  Black  Country Ill  ' 

XXn.  An  "Average"  Sunday 119 

XXin.  Dowager  and  Cowboy 125 

XXIV.  "By  Pureness,  by  Kindness,  by  Love 

Unfeigned" 134 

XXV.  The  County  Families 142 

XXVI.  The  Boat-Race 151 

XX\T[.  The  Custom-House 158 

XXVm.  The  "Rob"  Room 165 

XXIX.  Vested  Interests 171 

XXX.  "The  Auld  Un'" 176 

XXXI.  Church  and  State 182 

XXXn.  The  Chaplain  to  the  Queen      .     .     .  190 

XXXm.  The  Retired  Colonel 192 

XXXTV.  A  Problem  in  Casihstry 202 

XXXV.  A  Day  of  Trouble  and  Distress    .  210 

XXXVI.  "One  Every  Minute" 217 

XXXVII.  Angliaor  Frontenac? .227 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 


I 

THE  LEGACY 

I  WAS  SO  sorry  not  to  find  you  at  the  Rectory 
when  I  called  this  afternoon.  And,  what  is 
worse,  I  fear  we  may  not  see  you  for  a  long 
time,  if,  as  your  housekeeper  says,  you  are  to  be 
in  California  for  a  month.  For  before  you  re- 
turn we  shall  be  gone !  "  Gone  P  "  you  will  ask. 
"  Where .»"  Well,  I  do  not  quite  know.  The 
fact  is  I  am  in  such  a  whirl  that  I  hardly  know 
what  I  am  writing !  Perhaps  it  would  be  better 
if  I  began  at  the  beginning. 

You  know  how  overworked  John  has  been  for 
some  time.  He  has  not  been  sleeping  well,  and 
at  times  has  been — well,  almost  cross! — ^which 
means  he  is  tired  out.  The  culmination  came  on 
Good  Friday.  I  left  church  before  the  conclusion 
of  the  three-hour  service  that  I  might  reach  home 
in  time  to  have  a  cup  of  tea  ready  for  him  when 
he  returned.  You  remember  what  a  hot  day  it 
was.  Well,  I  was  standing  by  the  open  window 
in  the  study  waiting  to  see  him  come  round  the 
comer,  and  Rex — the  beautiful  Irish  setter  which 
Mr.  Dennis  gave  John — was  with  me.  When  John 
appeared  he  waved  his  hand  to  me  and  called 
[3] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

out  "Hello,  Rex!"  and  the  poor  dog,  no  doubt 
thinking  he  had  called  him  to  come,  sprang  from 
the  window  and  feU  the  two  flights,  striking  his 
head  on  the  steps,  and  was  instantly  killed.  I 
rushed  down-stairs  and  found  John  looking  as  if 
he  were  about  to  faint.  We  carried  the  body  into 
the  laundry,  and  John,  gazing  upon  it,  groaned: 
"  I  wish  it  were  I."  You  may  imagine  how  fright- 
ened I  was,  but  fortunately  I  had  self-control 
enough  to  keep  silence  and  led  him  away  and  in- 
duced him  to  drink  a  cup  of  strong  tea.  Then  I 
brought  out  his  pipe,  and,  though  he  murmured, 
"I  have  given  it  up  for  Lent,"  I  said  firmly, 
"You  have  not  given  it  up  for  to-day."  When 
he  was  resting  I  ran  round  the  corner  and  asked 
Mr.  Hathaway,  the  carpenter,  to  make  a  box  for 
poor  Rex,  which  he  said  he  would  do  at  once,  for 
every  one  on  the  block  loved  him.  Then  I  tele- 
phoned to  Mabel  Wheelock  and  asked  her  if  she 
would  be  wiUing  to  have  the  dear  creature  buried 
on  her  place  at  Pelham.  She  was  as  sympathetic 
as  if  we  had  lost  a  member  of  the  family — as  in- 
deed we  have.  But  how  to  get  the  body  there  I 
did  not  know !  I  called  up  the  hotel  garage  and 
learned  that  it  would  cost  seven  dollars  to  hire  a 
taxi.  It  seemed  more  than  we  could  pay,  but  I 
decided  we  must  risk  it.  How  I  wished  I  had  not 
bought  that  new  hat  for  Easter ! 
When  all  was  ready  I  called  John  and  we  started 
[4] 


THE  LEGACY 


for  Pelham,  where  we  left  the  body  of  a  creature 
of  whom  it  could  be  said  more  truly  than  of  many 
humans,  that  "he  was  faithful  unto  death." 
When  we  reached  home  I  induced  John  to  go  to 
bed,  and  was  soon  thankful  to  find  that  he  had 
fallen  asleep. 

The  next  morning  I  went  to  the  store  where  I 
had  bought  the  hat  and  asked  the  woman  to  take 
it  back.  She  was  none  too  well  pleased.  But, 
as  she  had  known  me  forever,  she  insisted  upon 
knowing  the  reason,  and  when  I  told  her  the 
kind-hearted  creature  said:  "Why,  you  poor 
thing,  you  keep  that  hat,  and  I'll  take  the  price 
of  the  taxi  off  the  bill.  It  will  be  good  business, 
anyhow,  for  when  that  hat  is  seen  on  you  there 
will  be  a  run  on  them."  You  may  think  less  of 
me,  but  I  was  so  glad  to  keep  it ! 

Then  I  went  to  see  Dr.  Webster.  He  hstened 
to  my  story  and  then  said:  "Your  husband  is  as 
sound  as  a  dollar.  I  went  all  over  him  when  he 
had  that  touch  of  bronchitis  in  January.  But  he 
has  exhausted  his  nervous  energy  and  must  have 
a  rest."  "But,"  I  said,  "we  cannot  afford  to  go 
away."  He  answered  gruffly:  "You  can't  afford 
to  keep  on." 

We  got  through  Easter  somehow,  and  John  did 
his  part  better  than  I  supposed  would  be  pos- 
sible. But  when  one  of  those  "gushy"  females, 
who  are  found  in  every  church,  said  to  me:  "How 
[5  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

wonderful  Mr.  Dobson  was  to-day !  I  don't  see 
how  he  does  it !  However,  it  cannot  he  a  strain 
on  him  because  he  speaks  so  easily,  tf  he  had 
to  prepare  his  sermons  I  don't  suppose  he  could 
do  it,  with  all  the  parish  work  he  has  to  do!" 
That  woman  is  called  by  some  people  "The  salt 
of  the  earth."  She  may  be,  but  it  is  salt  in  lumps, 
and  I  don't  like  it  that  way ! 

John  slept  the  clock  round  on  Easter  night  and 
it  was  nearly  noon  when  he  came  down  for  a 
cup  of  coffee.  There  were  not  many  letters, 
fortunately,  but  I  had  noticed  one  with  the  name 
of  a  well-known  firm  of  lawyers  on  the  envelope, 
and  rather  wondered  what  they  could  have  to 
say. 

When  John  had  read  it  he  exclaimed:  "Well, 
I'll  be  jiggered!" 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked. 

"Why,  Aunt  Susan  is  dead." 

"Is  that  the  aunt  who  lived  in  California.^" 

"Yes,  she  went  out  there  nearly  twenty  years 
ago,  and  I  do  not  suppose  I  have  thought  of  her 
twice  since." 

"Well,  what  has  happened .►^" 

"Why,  she  has  left  me  some  money." 

"Oh,  John !"  I  cried,  thinking  of  what  Dr.  Web- 
ster had  said.     "  It  can't  be  true." 

"I  guess  it  is,"  he  rephed.     "Weeks  &  Burke 
are  pretty  responsible  people,  and  they  write: 
[6] 


THE  LEGACY 


'By  the  will  of  the  late  Miss  Susan  B.  Melchor,' 
etc." 

I  kno^  this  sounds  Kke  the  "long  arm  of  coin- 
cidence," at  which  you  mock,  and  you  will  say 
that  such  things  do  not  happen  outside  of  ro- 
mances. Well,  wait  a  moment  and  you  will  see 
that  this  is  connected  with  a  romance  and  a 
rather  pathetic  one  too.  When  I  asked  John 
about  his  aunt  Susan,  he  could  not  tell  me  much. 
He  said  there  was  a  tradition  among  his  sisters^ — 
but  he  had  nothing  else  to  go  upon — that  when 
his  father  became  engaged  to  his  mother  poor 
Aunt  Susan  was  greatly  shocked,  for  she  had 
gotten  it  into  her  head  that  he  had  been  attracted 
by  her.  For  a  long  time  there  had  been  httle 
intercourse  between  the  sisters,  but  after  the 
death  of  his  father  Aunt  Susan  had  paid  a  visit 
to  his  mother,  and  taken  a  fancy  to  the  little 
boy,  who  was  supposed  to  resemble  his  father. 
She  had  only  money  enough  to  enable  her  to 
live  in  genteel  poverty  until  she  went  to  Cali- 
fornia, and  there  met  a  man  whom  she  had  known 
when  she  was  a  girl,  and,  following  his  advice, 
had  invested  her  Kttle  all  in  a  land  specula- 
tion which,  for  a  wonder,  turned  out  well  and 
brought  her  a  modest  fortune,  which  she  now, 
or  at  least  a  part  of  it,  bequeathed  to  the  son  of 
the  man  to  whom  she  had  given  her  heart  in  her 
girlhood.  Certainly  if  the  "long  arm  of  coinci- 
[7] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

dence"  is  ever  to  be  stretched  out,  this  is  a  time 
when  it  might  be  expected  to  show  its  power ! 

When  we  learned  the  amomit  of  the  legacy  it 
was  evident  that  we  should  not  be  able  to  Uve 
on  the  income  of  it,  though  it  would  be  a  great 
help  in  supplementing  a  modest  salary.  But 
when  I  told  John  that  I  thought  we  should  now 
be  justified  in  taking  a  month  ofiF  at  Lakewood  or 
somewhere  like  that,  he  vulgarly  rephed:  "Lake- 
wood  be  blowed !  We  are  going  to  Europe  to  see 
some  of  the  things  we  have  dreamed  about." 

"But  that  means  we  shall  have  to  break  into 
the  capital." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "so  long  as  we  do  not  break 
into  another's  man's  capital,  I  do  not  see  how  the 
law  can  interfere!" 

I  was  so  glad  to  feel  his  buoyant  spirits  again 
that  I  had  not  the  heart  to  make  further  objec- 
tions. But  I  did  add,  as  a  final  caution,  that  we 
must  not  forget  that  we  ought  to  lay  up  for  a 
rainy  day.  But  he  scorned  this  and  said:  "That 
is  the  way  money  poisons  us.  We  hoard  because 
we  are  afraid.  At  any  rate  it  is  far  better  for  us 
at  this  time,  instead  of  laying  up  for  a  rainy  day, 
to  lay  down  for  a  sunny  day ! " 

So  that  is  what  we  are  going  to  do. 


(81 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION 

U 

THE  SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION 

You  have  heard  from  Ruth  of  all  the  wonder- 
ful thmgs  that  have  happened  to  us,  and  that 
we  are  going  abroad.  But  you  have  not  heard 
that  we  are  planning  a  motor  trip.  If  you  say  that 
you  are  siuprised,  knowing  that  I  have  no  motor, 
I  can  only  reply,  "Not  more  so  than  I."  I  had 
supposed  Ruth  would  be  content  to  go  to  Europe 
as  most  of  our  friends  have  gone.  But  no;  she 
said  a  motor  trip  would  be  far  more  interesting. 
I  was  rather  surprised  for  another  reason:  Ruth 
is  so  careful  of  the  household  expenses  that  when 
I  suggested  that  motoring  was  a  rather  expensive 
amusement,  she  said  it  depended  entirely  upon 
how  it  was  done  I  We  could  buy  a  cheap  car  and 
dispense  with  the  services  of  a  chauffem*.  In  that 
way  it  would  prove  less  expensive  than  travelling 
by  train.  "Think,"  said  she,  "what  we  should 
save  on  baggage !  and  besides,  instead  of  stopping 
at  expensive  hotels  in  the  large  towns,  we  can  put 
up  at  any  httle  inn.  Moreover,  we  can  take  a 
lunch-basket  and  stop  by  the  way  at  any  place 
that  takes  our  fancy  and  eat  our  lunch." 

I  had  memories  of  hearing  something  of  the 
same  sort  the  first  time  I  went  abroad — on  a 
cattle  steamer.  I  was  told  by  a  fellow  traveller 
[9] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

that  one  could  make  a  walking  trip  on  the  Con- 
tinent for  five  francs  a  dayl  However,  when  I 
thought  of  Ruth's  uncomplaining  economies  these 
many  years,  I  said  it  was  a  fine  idea.  I  did,  how- 
ever, point  out  that  I  knew  rather  less  about  a 
motor  than  I  do  about  a  camel,  but  that  objection 
also  was  quickly  disposed  of.  "Did  not  James 
Hawkins  drive  his  car.^^  And  had  I  not  said, 
when  he  preached  for  us  last  Lent  that  he  had 
the  brain  of  a  flea  ?  If  he  could  learn  to  drive  a 
car  could  not  the  man,  who,  the  bishop  said,  etc.  ?'' 
Well,  the  result  was  I  entered  the  School  of 
Instruction  conducted  by  "Professor"  Patrick 
Quinn.  I  wish  now  I  had  gone  to  the  Y.  M.  C.  A., 
for  the  instruction  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  as 
good,  and  the  atmosphere  more  refined!  Last 
winter  I  heard  a  paper  read  at  a  clerical  meeting 
by  an  optimist  on  "The  Decline  of  Profanity." 
The  writer  could  never  have  been  in  a  garage  1 
However,  "Prof"  Quinn  knew  his  business,  and 
cursed  a  Kttle  of  his  knowledge  into  me.  There 
were  times  when  we  were  both  discouraged,  as  on 
the  day  when  he  pathetically  told  me  that  I  should 
learn  quicker  if  I  wasn't  so  "damn  awkward." 
But  in  spite  of  this  drawback  the  time  at  last 
came  when  my  "Boss"  announced  that  on  the 
following  day  he  would  take  me  out  on  the  road. 
So  the  next  day  the  "Professor"  drove  to  Jerome 
Avenue,  and  then  turned  the  car  over  to  me. 
[10] 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION 

Do  you  know  how  many  posts  there  are  on  that 
trolley  hne?  You  do  not!  No  one  does  who 
has  not  driven  a  car  in  and  out  among  them. 
Probably  you  suppose  them  to  be  stationary. 
That  is  what  I  thought.  But  they  move  like 
Birnam  wood ! 

Well,  when  my  nerves  were  all  on  edge  with 
trying  to  dodge  the  posts,  I  was  ordered  to  pass 
a  car  just  ahead  of  me.  This  I  did  triumphantly, 
and  cut  in  ahead.  Unfortunately,  at  that  mo- 
ment its  speed  must  suddenly  have  increased,  for 
the  rear  hub  of  our  car  nicked  a  piece  out  of  the 
front  tire  of  the  other  car.  What  the  driver  of 
that  car  said  I  decKne  to  repeat.  It  is  not  well 
you  should  know  such  things !  But  I  am  now  sure 
that  the  clerical  essayist  already  alluded  to  knows 
more  about  Pelagianism  than  he  does  of  the  ver- 
nacular of  New  York.  I  confess  I  had  a  momen- 
tary unholy  hope  that  my  "Boss"  would  answer 
him  in  a  way  it  would  be  sinful  for  me  to  imitate, 
but  instead  he  asked  me  if  I  had  a  "pull"  with  the 
poKce.  When  I  repKed  I  had  not  he  sarcasti- 
cally remarked  that  he  supposed  I  must  have, 
seeing  how  hard  I  was  trying  to  "get  run  in." 

A  few  minutes  later  he  directed  me  to  run  up 
to  the  Concourse.  You  may  remember  there  is 
a  sharp  rise  from  Jerome  Avenue,  so  thinking  he 
wished  to  find  out  if  I  remembered  his  lecture 
"On  the  Art  of  Driving,"  in  which  he  had  empha- 

[  11] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

sized  the  importance  of  "giving  her  gas"  at  the 
foot  of  a  hill,  and  then  "watch  her  pick  up,"  I 
gave  her  gas  and  watched  her  pick  up.  Indeed 
the  speed  soon  became  alarming.  At  the  top  of 
the  hill  there  is  a  sharp  turn  into  the  Concourse 
leading  onto  a  bridge  which  spans  the  road  on 
which  a  trolley  Kne  passes  beneath.  Onto  this 
bridge,  then,  we  whirled,  the  hub  of  the  off  rear 
wheel  striking  the  corner  of  the  buttress  of  the 
bridge  and  slewing  us  half-way  round,  so  that  the 
car  was  now  headed  toward  the  frail  railing  which 
marks  rather  than  guards  the  roadway.  I  was 
still  "giving  her  gas" — not  knowing  longer  what 
I  was  doing — ^and  have  no  doubt  but  that  in  an- 
other second  we  should  have  plunged  below,  had 
not  the  man  wrenched  the  wheel  from  my  hands 
and  straightened  the  car  out. 

I  was  fully  prepared  for  profanity  but  not  for 
the  wailing  prayer  which  issued  from  his  fright- 
ened lips.  I  call  it  a  prayer,  for  such  it  was  in 
form,  though  the  bitterness  of  his  tone  made  it 
more  dreadful  than  any  oath.  This  is  what  he 
said:  "0  my  G — d,  if  ever  I  hve  to  get  home, 
I'll  never  do  anything  riskier  than  drivin'  in  a 
Vanderbilt  Cup  race."  After  this  we  changed 
places  by  mutual  consent. 

It  is  surprising  what  a  difference  the  road-bed 
makes  in  the  running  of  a  car  I  At  least  I  suppose 
it  was  due  to  that,  for  on  Jerome  Avenue  the  car 
[12  1 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION 

had  run  now  fast  now  slow,  while  here  it  glided 
along  the  road  as  smoothly  as  a  shell  goes  through 
the  water  when  driven  by  the  steady  sweep  of  the 
oars.  Can  the  driver  have  anything  to  do  with 
it?  I  did  not  dare  to  ask  the  "Boss,"  for  it  was 
evident  that  he  was  " mad  at  me."  Another  thing 
surprised  me.  Again  and  again  he  refused  per- 
fectly good  chances  to  cut  in  ahead  of  another 
car,  instead  of  which  he  would  drop  back  and 
wait  until  there  was  plenty  of  room,  and  then 
run  alongside  of  his  rival  until  he  could  easily 
take  the  lead.  I  found,  however,  that  this  timid 
poUcy,  as  I  was  inchned  to  call  it,  was  really 
Fabian,  for  we  passed  each  car  in  turn.  More- 
over, he  did  not  seem  to  regard  the  drivers  of 
other  cars  as  his  natural  enemies,  as  seemed  to 
me  inevitable,  but,  on  the  contrary,  spoke  pleas- 
antly to  several  and  called  not  a  few  "brother." 
But  when  I  asked  him  if  all  the  family  was  in  the 
business,  he  gruffly  requested  me  "not  to  kid 
him."  Indeed,  it  was  evident  that  he  had  ceased 
swearing  at  me  because  he  regarded  me  as  hope- 
less. I  therefore  decided  not  to  return  to  the 
school,  even  though  I  failed  to  receive  the  diploma 
which,  he  had  assured  me  at  my  entrance,  would 
insure  me  a  first-class  job. 


[  13] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 


III 

"FOOL  PROOF" 

It  will  be  remembered  that  it  had  been  our 
intention  to  buy  a  cheap  car.  However,  we  did 
not,  because  Ruth  decided  that  this  would  not 
be  so  economical  as  we  had  supposed !  First,  we 
looked  at  the  smallest  and  cheapest  car  on  the 
market.  It  was  a  two-cylinder,  not  much  larger 
than  a  perambulator,  and  as  noisy  as  a  donkey- 
engine.  The  salesman  said  that  for  himseK  he 
did  not  care  for  one  of  those  perfectly  silent  cars: 
"There  is  too  much  danger  of  accidents.  You 
come  upon  people  suddenly,  before  they  have 
time  to  jump,  and  the  first  thing  you  know  you 
have  a  ten-thousand-dollar  suit  on  your  hands. 
But  with  this  car  there  is  no  such  danger,  for 
people  have  time  to  get  out  of  the  way  before 
they  are  hurt."  I  must  say  this  impressed  me, 
but  Ruth,  who  knows  nothing  of  the  dangers  of 
driving,  remarked  that  she  did  not  think  people 
would  be  much  hurt  if  that  car  did  hit  them. 
"Besides,"  she  added,  "no  conversation  would  be 
possible  in  such  a  car." 

The  man  rephed  that  there  was  not  much  chance 

in  a  car  where  you  were  blowing  the  Klaxon  aU 

the  time.     "And,  now,"  he  said,   "let  me  give 

you  a  demonstration."    To  this  we  agreed,  but 

[14] 


"FOOL  PROOF" 


as  there  was  room  for  but  one  besides  the  driver, 
he  suggested  that  I  should  try  it  first.  So  I 
chugged  round  the  block  while  the  demonstrator 
explained  how  many  miles  "she"  would  do  on  a 
gallon,  and  how  Httle  oil  it  took  to  lubricate 
"her."  But  when  it  came  Ruth's  turn,  the  en- 
gine stalled,  and  no  power  would  move  it.  So 
we  did  not  buy  that  one. 

Well,  we  looked  at  many  cars  of  many  makes, 
but  the  cheap  ones  were  uncomfortable,  and  the 
comfortable  ones  were  too  dear,  and  I  was  almost 
in  despair,  for  the  time  was  passing  and  I  felt 
that  I  must  have  a  Kttle  time  to  practise  driving 
before  starting  on  such  a  journey  as  we  had 
planned.  But  a  chance  word  decided  me.  We 
were  looking  at  a  "Frontenac."  It  was  a  most 
attractive-looking  "runabout,"  and  Ruth  said  it 
"fitted  her  back"  better  than  any  we  had  seen, 
and  so,  though  the  price  was  more  than  we  had 
intended  to  pay,  I  saw  she  had  set  her  heart  upon 
it,  and  was  asking  myself  if  I  could  not  economize 
somewhere  else  and  let  her  have  what  she  wanted, 
when  the  salesman,  who  of  course  was  a  mind- 
reader,  remarked:  "This  is  a  new  model.  We 
built  it  because  there  was  no  car  on  the  market 
built  for  a  'gentleman's'  use.  You  see,  no  one 
with  this  car  would  need  a  chauffeur,  though,  as 
you  may  have  noticed,  there  is  a  seat  which  folds 
up,  so  that  if  one  wished  to  pick  up  a  friend,  or 
[  15] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

take  a  chauffeur  for  a  special  occasion,  it  could  be 
done."  Then  he  added,  as  if  speaking  to  himself, 
while  he  laid  his  hand  caressingly  on  the  mud- 
guard: "What  I  like  about  this  car  is  that  she  is 
practically  'FOOL  PROOF.'"  He  had  spoken 
the  inevitable  word.  That  was  the  kind  of  car  I 
had  been  looking  for !  Then  followed  an  explana- 
tion of  the  " self-starter " — "something  found  on 
no  other  car."  I  hesitated  no  longer.  I  paid  the 
deposit  and  he  said  the  car  was  mine.  It  was  not 
cheap,  but,  as  the  testimonials  say,  "If  I  could 
not  buy  its  mate  I  would  not  sell  it  for  twice  the 
amount  I  paid!" 

One  does  not  receiA^e  a  car  the  day  one  pays 
for  it.  There  are  still  many  things  to  buy  in  the 
way  of  accessories,  and  as  a  result  the  car  was  not 
in  my  hands  until  the  day  before  I  was  required 
to  turn  it  over  to  the  shipper.  I  therefore  had 
time  only  to  drive  around  the  park  three  times  be- 
fore I  was  required  to  dehver  the  car  at  the  dock. 

I  was  glad  to  find  that  I  did  better  alone  than 
when  profanity  was  being  barked  into  my  ear  at 
every  turn  I 

Of  course  I  stalled  several  times  through  failure 
to  "give  her  gas,"  but  the  self-starter  had  taken 
the  sting  out  of  that,  and  I  drove  back  to  the 
garage  feeHng  that  I  was  now  prepared  to  risk 
the  two  most  precious  Uves  in  the  world  with  a 
fair  margin  of  safety ! 

[16] 


"DER  KAISER  WILHELM  DER  ZWEITE" 

IV 
"DER  KAISER  WILHELM  DER  ZWEITE" 

You  have  crossed  the  North  Atlantic  too  often 
to  be  bothered  with  an  account  of  our  trip.  We 
ate  too  much — ^indeed,  I  am  told  the  temptation 
to  do  so  is  greater  on  these  boats  than  on  any 
except  those  of  the  French  Line — and  also  we 
took  too  little  exercise.  And  yet  we  seem  none 
the  worse  for  it!  Possibly  that  was  due,  in  my 
case,  to  the  fact  that  I  slept  a  great  deal,  and  that 
when  I  was  not  sleeping  or  eating  I  lay  in  my 
deck-chair  and  wondered  how  any  one  could  ever 
worry!  Is  it  not  surprising  how  the  petty 
worries  of  life  drop  overboard  at  Sandy  Hook? 
This  cannot  be  true,  I  suppose,  of  the  foolish 
men  who  keep  in  touch  with  the  office  by  wire- 
less, but  it  was  true  of  us.  Yet  one  day  I  was 
startled  by  hearing  my  name  called  by  a  page, 
who  ran  along  the  deck  with  a  slip  of  paper  in  his 
hand.  Fortunately,  it  was  only  a  word  of  greet- 
ing from  the  Stoddards,  who  were  returning  on 
the  France,  and  sent  us  a  message  of  good-will. 

I  did,  however,  have  certain  experiences  which 
were  imusual.  The  first  night  out  I  was  sitting 
in  the  drafty  and  fearfully  decorated  smoking- 
room  when  a  man  approached  me  and  asked  if  I 
would  take  a  hand  at  poker.  I  declined  poHtely 
[  17] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

but  he  insisted,  urging  that  it  was  "  only  a  friendly 
game,  twenty-five  cents  a  point."  I  again  de- 
clined, saying  I  did  not  play.  He  returned  to  his 
friend  and  remarked  in  a  loud  tone:  "De  trouble 
mit  men  who  hafe  lifed  all  der  fives  in  a  viUage  is 
dat  ven  dey  meet  a  stranger,  dey  tink  he  must 
be  a  con  man." 

On  Sunday  morning  we  were  wakened  by  the 
band,  which  played,  beautifuUy,  "Ein  Feste 
Burg."  I  supposed  that  would  be  the  only  Sunday 
observance,  and  was  not  a  fittle  surprised  to  re- 
ceive a  message  from  the  captain,  asking  me  to 
hold  service  in  the  Lounge.  This  I  did,  the  fuU 
band  assisting.  There  were  a  number  of  Ameri- 
cans aboard,  and  most  of  them  attended.  But 
what  surprised  me  greatly  was  to  notice  a  number 
of  Jews,  several  of  whom  later  spoke  to  me  and 
expressed  their  satisfaction.  They  said  that  they 
did  not  know  that  we  used  the  Old  Testament  in 
our  service!  I  asked  one  of  them,  a  cultivated 
man,  if  he  attended  the  synagogue.  He  shook 
his  head  sadly  and  said,  not  since  he  was  a  boy, 
unless  it  were  to  go  to  a  funeral,  and  added  that 
this  was  true  of  thousands  of  cultivated  Jews.  I 
said  it  seemed  to  me  a  dreadful  thing  that  the 
race  which  had  given  the  greatest  spiritual  gifts 
to  mankind  should  be  losing  interest  in  the  highest 
ideals  of  fife,  and  asked  if  it  were  not  possible  for 
them  to  find  in  some  form  of  Christianity,  which, 
[18] 


"DER  KAISER  WILHELM  DER  ZWEITE" 

after  all,  was  an  evolution  of  Judaism,  the  satis- 
faction their  souls  must  crave.  He  looked  at  me 
for  a  moment,  and  then  said  bitterly:  "If  Chris- 
tians began  by  treating  us  as  if  we  were  human, 
perhaps  we  might  be  willing  to  listen  to  their 
gospel  of  brotherhood."  I  wonder  if,  instead  of 
a  Society  for  the  Conversion  of  the  Jews,  we  do 
not  need  a  Society  for  the  Conversion  of  Chris- 
tians! 

This  service  was  memorable  for  another  reason. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  prayed  for  the 
Kaiser.  Indeed,  it  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever 
heard  him  prayed  for !  This  gave  great  satisfac- 
tion to  the  German-Americans,  who,  while  they 
are  glad  to  enjoy  the  hberty  of  the  Repubhc, 
their  hearts,  without  doubt,  certainly  many  of 
them,  are  with  the  Fatherland.  They  may,  some 
day,  become  a  menace  to  us  should  we  ever  have 
trouble  with  Germany.  But  that  is  not  likely  in 
spite  of  our  experience  in  Manila  Bay  I  But,  in- 
deed, I  do  not  see  why  we  should  complain  of 
them  when  we  think  of  the  attitude  of  the  Eng- 
Hsh  who  make  their  homes  with  us.  How  many 
Englishmen  of  the  better  class  do  you  know  who 
have  been  naturalized.**  Not  a  score,  I  venture 
to  say.  They  vsrite  letters  to  the  English  papers, 
and  sometimes  to  our  own,  complaining  of  the 
iniquities  of  Tammany  Hall,  but  do  not  Hft  the 
burden  with  one  of  their  Httle  fingers. 
[19] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

However,  you  will  have  had  enough  of  this! 
How  inevitably  we  parsons  take  to  preaching 
when  we  are  not  fooling ! 

We  reached  Plymouth  on  a  lovely  evening  and 
glided  into  the  harbor  as  quietly  as  you  bring  your 
knockabout  to  its  mooring.  I  was  much  im- 
pressed by  the  discipline  of  the  crew.  There  was 
neither  shouting  nor  confusion,  and  the  great 
ship  dropped  anchor  as  quietly  as  a  ferry-boat 
comes  into  its  shp.  One  thing,  however,  sur- 
prised me.  As  soon  as  we  entered  the  harbor  a 
sound  of  firing  was  heard,  and  Httle  water-spouts 
shot  up  all  over  the  surface  of  the  water.  They 
were  evidently  harmless  mines  being  exploded 
from  the  batteries  on  shore.  Still  I  wondered 
they  did  not  cease  while  the  captain  was  engaged 
in  such  a  delicate  operation,  and  it  did  not  seem 
in  keeping  with  the  English  sporting  spirit.  I 
spoke  to  one  of  the  officers  about  it,  and  he  re- 
plied, with  much  dignity:  "The  Enghsh  do  this 
each  time  we  enter  one  of  their  harbors.  It  does 
no  harm,  and  is  only  a  childish  way  of  showing 
their  hatred  of  our  merchant  marine,  which  is 
their  only  serious  rival.  But  it  is  a  mistake,  as 
they  will  some  day  learn." 

Of  course  there  may  be  no  truth  in  this,  and  the 

explosions  at  that  particular  time  may  have  been 

only  a  coincidence,  but  it  is  sad  that  such  bad 

feeling  should  exist  between  these  two  great  na- 

[20] 


THE  CAR  ARRIVES 


tions  as  to  make  it  possible  for  such  things  to  be 
beUeved.  The  Germans  are  talking  most  fool- 
ishly about  "Der  Tag,"  but  English  plays  and 
novels,  and  even  such  a  paper  as  the  Spectator,  are 
helping  to  sow  the  seeds  of  suspicion.  That  in 
this  day  England  and  Germany  will  go  to  war  is, 
I  beheve,  thought  possible  only  by  the  "retired 
admirals."  But  the  mere  suspicion  leads  to  fear, 
and  that,  in  turn,  might  lead  to  war. 

Well,  here  I  am  talking  politics,  which  is  more 
tiresome  than  preaching  I 


V 

THE  CAR  ARRIVES 

On  reaching  London  we  found  that  the  freight 
steamer  on  which  the  car  had  been  shipped  had 
not  yet  arrived.  As  Ruth  was  most  anxious  to 
see  her  sister,  who  lives  in  Yorkshire,  she  was 
persuaded  to  proceed  by  train  and  leave  me  to 
bring  on  the  car  alone.  This  was,  indeed,  a 
happy  solution  of  a  problem  which  had  caused  me 
some  anxiety.  I  was  quite  ready  to  risk  one 
valuable  Ufe,  but  did  not  care  to  risk  two  I 

The  next  day  I  received  word  that  the  Georgic 

had  arrived  at  the  Tilbury  docks,  and  that  the 

car  was  being  held  "at  the  risk  of  the  owner."     I 

had  been  advised  to  take  a  chauffeur  with  me  and 

[21] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

not  to  attempt  to  drive  the  car  into  London  my- 
self, which  advice  I  followed. 

When  we  arrived  at  Tilbury,  which  is  about 
twenty-five  mUes  from  London,  we  found  the 
car,  still  in  its  crate,  standing  on  the  docks. 
There  were  few  formahties  to  be  compHed  with, 
and  a  carpenter  was  soon  at  work  opening  the  case. 

While  waiting  I  fell  into  conversation  with  the 
third  officer,  who  had  charge  of  the  imloading  of 
the  vessel,  and  expressed  my  admiration  of  the 
docks,  and  said  I  wished  we  had  some  equal  to 
them  in  New  York.  He  admitted  they  were  a 
fine  bit  of  work,  but  said  that  the  possibihties  of 
our  port  were  the  greatest  in  the  world.  "I  have 
often  wished,"  he  added,  "that  I  might  see  that 
port  fifty  years  hence.  You  see,  it  is  the  only 
great  city  in  the  world  that  is  directly  on  the 
sea,  and  therefore  has  much  the  same  advantage 
now  that  Venice  had  of  old.  The  East  River, 
being  as  it  were  a  canal,  connecting  New  York 
Bay  with  Long  Island  Sound,  and  the  Hudson 
being  an  estuary  of  the  sea,  the  largest  ships  can 
dock  almost  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  discharge 
cargo,  then  load  again  and  pass  out  at  any  tide. 
Nowhere  else  is  such  a  thing  possible." 

I  said  I  was  thinking  rather  of  the  cleanUness 
and  "smartness"  of  the  docks  than  of  their 
convenience. 

"  I  grant  you,"  he  said,  "  that  we  beat  you  there. 
[22  1 


THE  CAR  ARRIVES 


But  already  you  are  replacing  your  old  wooden 
docks  with  concrete,  which  will  last  as  long  as 
stone.  The  reason  your  docks  are  not  so  clean 
as  ours  is  because  of  the  high  price  of  unskilled 
labor  with  you.  If  we  had  to  pay  twelve  shillings 
a  day  to  the  man  who  sweeps  and  tidies  up,  we 
should  have  to  have  the  work  done  twice  a  week 
as  you  do." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "that  means  that  we  shall  never 
be  able  to  have  docks  and  streets  as  clean  as 
yours." 

.  "If  it  did,"  he  repHed,  "there  are  better  things 
than  neatness.  Neatness  may  imply  poverty  on 
the  part  of  labor,  and  poverty  leads  to  drink  and 
8o  to  the  breeding  of  more  poverty." 

"Still,"  I  urged,  "though  neatness  may  imply 
poverty,  slovenhness  shows  a  lack  of  self-respect. 
A  city  that  cannot  keep  its  front  door-step  clean 
is  a  bad  neighbor." 

He  laughed  at  this  homely  illustration  but  said 
the  solution  of  the  problem  must  be  found  in 
another  way.  "It  is  all  very  well  to  talk  of  the 
'dignity'  of  labor,  but  where  is  the  dignity  in 
sweeping  up  dungi^ — perhaps  taking  up  the  last 
of  it  in  one's  hands.  No  man  does  it  willingly, 
he  is  driven  to  it  by  necessity." 

I  quoted: 

"Are  these  things  necessities? 
Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities." 
[23] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"You  may  be  surprised  to  learn  that  a  sailor 
knows  his  Shakespeare,  but  I  read  a  play  every 
voyage,  and  so  I  recognize  that  great  speech  of 
the  king.  But  the  question  is  are  these  things 
necessities?  I  say  no.  Machinery  must  be,  and 
I  believe  will  be,  invented  to  do  the  work  which 
no  self-respecting  man  ought  to  be  asked  to  do 
habitually.  Some  day  we  shall  have  great  vac- 
uum cleaners  to  do  such  work,  and  then  you 
will  have  your  docks  and  streets  as  clean  as  ours, 
and  at  half  the  price." 

I  should  like  to  have  had  more  talk  with  this 
intelligent  young  officer,  but  the  car  was  now 
ready,  so  the  chauffeur  and  I  took  our  places  on 
the  front  seat. 

At  that  moment  a  wretched  specimen  of  the 
casual  laborer  appeared,  and,  touching  his  greasy 
cap,  inquired:  "Shall  I  wind  her  up,  Guv'ner.^" 
I  nodded  and  he  stooped  down  to  find  the  handle. 
Then  he  looked  up  with  a  grin,  remarking:  "You 
'ave  fergot  the  'andle,  sir!"  Meanwhile  I  had 
touched  the  self-starter;  the  little  electric  engine 
had  begun  to  hum,  there  was  a  click  and  the  car 
ghded  away.  I  tossed  the  poor  wretch  a  shiUing, 
but  he  was  too  astonished  to  say  "Thank  you." 
He  simply  exclaimed,  in  a  dazed  way,  "Well,  I'm 
damned!"  There  was  a  cheer  from  the  by- 
standers, and  we  slipped  through  the  gate  and 
turned  toward  London. 

[24] 


THE  CAR  ARRIVES 


The  chaufFeur  took  the  wheel,  and  of  course  the 
talk  turned  upon  cars.  He  admitted  that  the 
American  cars  were  "smart"  and  wonderfully 
cheap,  but  declared  that  they  could  not  compare 
with  English  cars  in  durability.  "They  tell  me 
that  at  the  end  of  a  year  you  American  gentlemen 
turn  in  your  cars,  at  a  great  loss,  and  get  a  new 
one  in  exchange.  But  an  English  car  will  be  as 
good  after  five  years  as  this  will  be  at  the  end  of 
one.    So,  I  do  not  see  there  is  much  saved." 

I  said  we  found  it  cheaper  to  scrap  an  old  ma- 
chine than  to  run  up  a  bill  for  repairs. 

He  replied:  "That  may  be,  because  wages  are 
so  high,  but  in  the  long  run  the  American  car  is 
the  more  expensive." 

"But  you  must  remember,"  I  replied,  "that 
every  year  there  are  improvements." 

But  he  shrewdly  remarked :  ' '  There  are  changes ; 
I  do  not  know  that  they  are  always  improve- 
ments. " 

It  was  fascinating  to  watch  this  skilful  driver 
thread  his  way  through  the  traffic;  so  well  did  he 
manage  that  in  a  much  shorter  time  than  I 
had  supposed  would  be  possible,  we  reached 
the  garage,  in  a  street  not  far  from  Leicester 
Square. 

There  were  things  enough  still  to  do  to  occupy 
the  rest  of  the  day — the  grease,  with  which  the 
brass  work  had  been  smeared  to  protect  it  en 
[25] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

route,  removed,  the  car  cleaned  and  polished,  and 
the  batteries  filled  with  distilled  water,  which 
could  be  obtained  only  from  a  "chemist,"  and  all 
valves  and  bolts  tested.  Then  there  were  last 
pm'chases  to  be  made,  to  insm'e  comfort  in  a 
climate  in  which,  even  in  summer,  the  American 
shivers  like  a  Mexican  hairless  dog!  So  it  was 
not  till  the  next  afternoon  that,  the  chauffeur  still 
driving,  we  started  on  our  great  adventure. 


VI 

THE  GREAT  NORTH  ROAD 

I  HAD  supposed  we  should  go  north  at  once,  in- 
stead of  which  the  driver  headed  west  through 
Regent  Park,  thus  avoiding  the  narrow  and 
crowded  thoroughfares  of  East  London,  which 
stretch  far  to  the  north.  Then,  by  by-ways 
which  a  stranger  could  never  have  found,  we  came 
to  Hatfield,  where  I  had  planned  to  spend  the 
night,  and  there  the  chauffeur  left  me.  I  confess 
that  when  I  parted  with  him  I  felt  as  I  have  heard 
the  sick  say  they  felt  when  the  nurse  departed — 
both  weak  and  lonely ! 

The  inn  at  Hatfield  is  called  the  "Purple  Cow," 
or  by  the  name  of  some  other  zoological  curiosity, 
but  was  comfortable  enough  except  that  its  prox- 
[26] 


THE  GREAT  NORTH  ROAD 


imity  to  the  tracks  of  the  Great  Northern  Railway 
makes  it  as  conducive  to  sleep  as  a  room  on  the 
"L"  at  home! 

There  is  no  garage  connected  with  the  inn  of 
uncertain  name,  but  there  are  vast  stables,  now, 
alas,  well-nigh  empty.  The  ancient  ostler  looks 
with  no  kindly  eye  on  motors,  but  he  was,  I  think, 
more  favorably  disposed  toward  me  when  I 
showed  an  interest  in  his  tales  of  former  days, 
when,  so  he  said,  as  many  as  a  hundred  horses 
had  found  bed  and  fodder  at  one  time  under  his 
care.  This,  of  course,  was  in  the  good  old  coach- 
ing days,  which  he  could  remember  as  a  boy,  be- 
fore railroads  had  changed  the  face  of  England. 
Indeed  this  continued,  he  said,  for  a  long  time 
after  that,  while  gentlemen  still  travelled  in  thei 
carriages.  But  the  motor-car  had  given  the 
coup  de  grace,  and  in  his  mind's  eye  the  old  man 
could  now  see  "Ichabod"  inscribed  across  the 
long,  low  front  of  the  building  which  had  once 
echoed  to  the  songs  of  postboys  and  the  neighing 
of  many  steeds.  So,  when  he  declined  to  wash 
the  car,  saying  he  "knew  nothing  of  such  things," 
I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  either  to  protest 
or  to  lessen  his  tip  when  I  departed.  Rather  I 
felt  the  same  sort  of  sympathy  with  him  which  I, 
a  stanch  Protestant,  felt  when  I  saw  in  France 
or  Italy,  old  monks  wandering  through  the  aisles 
of  some  deserted  abbey.  From  both  the  glory 
[27] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

had  departed,  and  utility  can  never  have  the 
charm  of  beauty. 

I  was  the  only  guest  at  the  inn,  and  instead  of 
ordering  a  chop,  as  any  one  but  an  American 
would  have  done,  I  foolishly  said  I  should  Hke 
"dinner."  Therefore  I  was  served  with  soup — 
enough  for  a  bath — a  large  fish,  and  a  roast  chicken, 
followed  by  a  huge  tart !  When  I  saw  the  bill  I 
remembered  Ruth's  prophecy  that  we  should  save 
money  by  stopping  at  small  inns!  There  was 
enough  left  to  feed  the  inn-keeper's  family  for  a 
week.    Perhaps  it  did ! 

After  dinner  I  strolled  to  the  gates  of  "Hatfield 
House"  and  looked  up  the  long  avenue,  but  catch- 
ing only  a  glimpse  of  the  hall.  There  came  to 
my  mind  certain  articles  by  Godkin,  in  the  Nation, 
in  which  he  had  spoken  with  biting  sarcasm  of 
Lord  Safisbury,  and  then  I  recalled  what  A.  V. 
G.  Allen  used  to  say,  that  "Salisbury  was  the 
typical  EngHshman."  You  know  what  a  radical 
Allen  was  in  theology;  yet  he  was  a  Tory  in  Eng- 
lish poUtics.  From  Salisbury  the  mind  naturally 
rebounded  to  Gladstone,  the  poUtical  Liberal  but 
the  ecclesiastical  reactionary.  Such  musings  led 
me  to  ask  myself  if  nature  did  not  arrange  our 
temperaments  as  a  clock-maker  does  the  pen- 
dulum of  a  grandfather  clock,  of  metals  with 
different  expansive  qualities,  lest  a  man  be  rad- 
ical or  conservative  d  outrance?  Turning  such 
[28] 


THE  GREAT  NORTH  ROAD 


thoughts  over  in  my  mind  in  that  dreamy  fashion 
which  is  so  dehghtful  because  it  calls  for  no  ac- 
tion, I  turned  back  to  the  inn,  "and  so  to  bed." 

Next  morning  the  weather  was  apparently  "set 
fair,"  and  I  drove  out  of  the  stable-yard  in  good 
spirits.  Mile  after  mile  I  drove  sedately  on, 
gaining  confidence  with  each  hour.  When  I  had 
inquired  of  the  dreary  ostler  what  road  to  take  to 
Yorkshire,  he  had  replied,  in  surprise,  "The  north 
road.  There  ben't  no  other,  so  you  can't  miss  it." 
Little  he  knew  what  I  am  capable  of! 

The  roads  are  all  so  good  that  it  is  not  as  easy 
as  one  would  suppose  to  keep  to  the  great  high- 
way. There  are  no  "mud  roads"  branching  from 
the  pike,  as  in  Pennsylvania,  where  the  difference 
is  evident  at  a  glance.  So,  when  I  had  overcome 
the  first  nervousness  and  begun  to  take  notice  of 
the  country,  glancing  first  to  the  right  to  watch 
the  cattle  feeding  in  the  deep  meadow,  and  then 
to  the  left  where  the  wheat  was  almost  ready  for 
the  harvest,  and  speculating  on  the  yield  as  com- 
pared with  the  new  land  at  home,  it  is  not  strange 
that  I  should  have  diverged  from  the  right  way. 
Indeed  it  was  not  alone  "the  things  which  are 
seen"  which  caused  me  to  err,  there  was  also  the 
"unseen"  which  filled  the  mind's  eye.  For  this 
was  not  the  first  time  by  any  means  that  I  had 
travelled  the  Great  North  Road!  I  had  trod  it 
on  foot  with  dear  Jeanie  Deans,  thankful  for  an 
[29] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

occasional  "cast  in  a  cart,"  and  by  coach  with 
Mr.  Squeers,  and  in  the  pleasant  company  of  Mr. 
Pickwick  also,  if  I  am  not  mistaken.  Well,  the 
result  of  all  this  contemplation  of  things,  "  visible 
and  invisible,"  was  that  when  I  finally  inquired 
the  way,  I  found  I  was  more  than  twenty  miles 
too  far  to  the  eastward — not  far,  indeed,  from 
Cambridge.  I  found,  moreover,  that  human  na- 
ture is  the  same  on  the  country  roads  of  England 
as  at  home!  For  the  laborer  to  whom  I  spoke 
showed  the  same  superiority  that  one  notices  in 
those  foolish  people  who  get  up  early  in  the  morn- 
ing as  they  greet  the  late  riser!  He  told  me  I 
must  retrace  my  road  for  some  miles  to  get  again 
on  the  North  road.  But  as  this  is  a  thing  I  de- 
test, I  insisted  that  by  keeping  on  I  should  ulti- 
mately regain  the  road  I  had  lost.  He  reluctantly 
admitted  this  might  be  done,  if  I  kept  on  as  far 
as  Royston.  As  all  places  were  now  the  same  to 
me,  this  is  what  I  decided  to  do,  much  to  his  dis- 
appointment I  am  sure,  for  he  would  have  liked 
to  see  me  pay  the  penalty  of  my  folly. 

As  you  have  no  doubt  mentioned  in  more  than 
one  of  your  sermons,  "Disappointments  are  often 
blessings  in  disguise."  This  proved  to  be  one  of 
them,  for  it  led  me  back  into  an  England  older 
than  that  of  Scott  or  Dickens — even  to  the  Eng- 
land of  Fielding ! 

[30] 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  FIELDING 


VII 
THE  ENGLAND  OF  FIELDING 

Again  I  was  the  only  guest  at  the  inn  which  was 
called,  perhaps,  "The  Dappled  Hart,"  but  there 
was  an  excellent  dinner  waiting  for  any  who 
might  stop.  There  was  lamb  as  tender  as  one 
could  wish,  and  peas  which  had  not  been  withered 
by  transportation,  and  a  cherry  tart,  over  which 
custard  had  been  poured,  which,  I  fear,  came  out 
of  a  bottle  such  as  the  advertisements  on  the 
boardings  illustrate  with  a  picture  of  a  greedy 
little  girl  waiting  impatiently  to  be  helped !  When 
I  praised  the  freshness  of  the  peas  the  young 
woman,  who  served  me  none  too  graciously,  I 
know  not  why,  unless  because  I  had  no  chauffeur, 
said  they  had  been  picked  in  the  garden  that  same 
morning.  This  menu,  I  may  say,  seldom  changed, 
though  sometimes  the  lamb  had  grown  to  mutton, 
or  even  changed  to  some  other  animal;  but,  what- 
ever the  meat  was  called,  it  was  invariably  excel- 
lent, and  far  better  cooked  than  one  would  find 
in  a  place  of  the  same  size  at  home. 

When  I  had  dined,  or,  as  there  was  no  soup,  I 
suppose  I  should  say  lunched,  I  asked  if  I  might 
smoke.  But  the  uncompromising  young  woman 
said  "Certainly  not,"  and  pointed  the  way  to  the 
bar.  This  was  reached  by  crossing  the  paved 
[31] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

way  which  led  from  the  side  street  to  the  stables, 
passing  under  an  archway.  The  bar  proved  to 
be  a  low,  damp  room,  in  which,  I  think,  if  one  sat 
long  alcohol  would  become  a  necessity.  There 
were  several  small  tables  arranged  for  those  who 
wished  to  be  semiprivate,  but  I  noticed  that  the 
few  customers  preferred  to  lean  against  the  bar 
and  talk  to  the  landlord,  much  as  in  the  saloons 
at  home.  After  a  casual  glance  they  paid  no 
attention  to  me,  and  I  sipped  my  coffee  and 
smoked  my  pipe  in  silence. 

Then  a  man  entered  who  seemed  to  be  a  stranger, 
but  who  evidently  knew  the  Masonic  sign,  for  he 
soon  fell  into  conversation  with  them.  He  was 
evidently  what  we  call  a  "drummer,"  but  had 
none  of  the  jollying  manner  of  the  guild  as  we 
know  it,  for  there  were  long  pauses  in  the  conver- 
sation. Then  entered  a  man  who  was  evidently 
quite  at  home,  and  felt  himself  to  be  of  some  im- 
portance. He  immediately  began  to  lay  down 
the  law  on  every  subject  mentioned,  to  which  the 
others  submitted  meekly.  But  not  the  drummer ! 
He  too  had  his  opinions,  and  was  willing  to  have 
them  known,  and,  encouraged  by  the  landlord, 
plucked  up  spirit  and  began  to  give  as  well  as 
take.  I  now  anticipated  some  interesting  talk, 
and  was  not  disappointed.  The  dominating  man 
had  ordered  whiskey  and  soda,  or  rather  it  had 
been  prepared  by  the  landlord  as  if  he  were  f  amihar 
[32] 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  FIELDING 


with  his  customer's  taste.  As  he  slowly  sipped  it 
he  looked  at  me,  as  much  as  to  say:  "My  friend, 
I  shall  make  short  work  of  you  when  I  eun  ready.'* 
But  I  was  saved  by  the  drummer.  He  began  by 
explaining  some  of  the  inconveniences  to  which 
a  stranger,  such  as  he,  is  subjected  in  a  strange 
town,  and  rashly  suggested  that  provincial  Eng- 
land would  be  improved  by  the  estabhshment  of 
places  of  "Convenience,"  such  as  every  traveller 
on  the  Continent  is  famihar  with. 

This  is  what  the  village  doctor — for  such  I  now 
learned  he  was — was  waiting  for.  He  took  high 
moral  ground  and  proved  to  his  own  satisfaction 
— and  I  think  carried  the  house  with  liim — that 
this  would  be  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  Enghsh 
morahty.  "Did  the  gentleman  mean  to  suggest 
that  England  should  become  as  France.*^" 

The  gentleman  "meant  to  suggest  nothing  of 
the  sort,"  and  rather  cleverly  shifted  the  ground 
from  the  moral  to  the  physical.  But  here,  of 
course  the  doctor  was  too  much  for  him,  remark- 
ing with  a  complacent  smile:  "I  think  I  may  be 
allowed  to  speak  with  a  Httle  authority  on  that 
aspect  of  the  question,  being  a  medical  man 
myself." 

I  do  not  know  how  great  his  authority  may 
have  been,  but  I  can  answer  for  his  dogmatism ! 
How  often  the  two  are  confused ! 

If  you  were  not  temporarily  blind  and  so  de- 
[33] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

pendent  upon  Miss  Fuller  to  read  your  letters,  I 
would  repeat  the  conversation  which  followed  in 
full.  Not  that  there  was  anything  improper  in 
it.  The  disputants  were  as  solemn  as  if  they  were 
discussing  rehgion,  only  they  "called  a  spade  a 
spade."  But  we  have  grown  so  squeamish,  or 
so  immoral,  that  we  hide  "Tom  Jones"  under  the 
sofa-cushion  and  place  "The  Visits  of  Elizabeth" 
on  the  parlor  table.  But  rural  England,  I  learned 
that  day,  while  it  has  changed  superficially,  is 
still  the  England  of  Fielding.  Squire  Westons 
can  still  be  found  in  certain  counties — indeed 
Dogberry  is  not  unknown  in  remote  villages. 

When  I  had  hstened  to  as  much  as  I  dared 
without  bursting  with  laughter,  which  came  when 
the  landlord  stoutly  declared  that  his  "midden" 
was  not  pubhc  property,  I  escaped  to  the  stable- 
yard  and,  as  I  drove  by  the  bar-window,  heard 
the  exasperating  voice  of  the  doctor  proclaiming, 
"  Indeed,  I  could  tell  you  of  a  case,  not  five  miles 
from  here,  to  which,  if  I  had  not  been  called 
immediately,"  etc. 


34 


THE  END  OF  THE  NORTH  ROAD 

VIII 
THE  END  OF  THE  NORTH  ROAD 

I  SUPPOSE  my  mind  was  full  of  Fielding  and  the 
essential  immobility  of  the  Enghsh  character, 
which  illustrates  so  well  Goethe's  saying,  "Men 
change  but  Man  remains  the  same,"  when  I  was 
jerked  as  it  were  out  of  the  eighteenth  century 
into  the  twentieth  by  the  violent  blowing  of  a 
motor-horn.  Looking  up  I  saw  a  large  touring- 
car,  driven  at  great  speed  and  heading  straight 
for  me.  I  blew  my  horn  in  reply,  and  expected 
to  see  the  approaching  car  swerve  to  the  other  side 
of  the  road.  But,  instead,  it  came  rushing  on, 
and  a  head-on  coUision  seemed  inevitable.  It  was 
now  too  late  to  escape  by  turning  out,  and  so, 
not  knowing  what  to  do,  I  did  what  proved  to  be 
the  best  thing  possible,  I  brought  my  car  to  a 
sudden  stop  and  waited  for  the  impact!  I  sup- 
posed the  driver  of  the  other  car  was  drunk.  But 
evidently  he  was  not  so  drunk  as  to  plunge  into 
another  car,  for,  with  a  frightful  grinding  of 
brakes  he  checked  his  car,  the  headlights  of  the 
two  almost  touching. 

I  was  too  confused  to  say  anything,  and  so  we 

sat  for  a  moment  gazing  at  one  another.    He 

spoke  first,  and  you  may  imagine  my  surprise 

when  he  said,  in  a  tolerant  tone:  " Drunk .'^"    To 

[35] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

have  my  suspicion  of  him  so  quickly  thrown  back 
upon  me  so  paralyzed  me  that  I  was  speechless, 
and  simply  continued  to  stare. 

"I  say,"  finally  remarked  my  opponent,  "are 
you  going  to  turn  out,  or  are  you  looking  for 
trouble?" 

There  was  a  lady,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more 
accurate  to  say  a  female,  sitting  in  the  tonneau, 
and  she  suddenly  called  out:  "Henry,  it  is  an 
American,  and  he  is  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
road!" 

It  was  true !  In  spite  of  warnings  and  good  in- 
tentions, I  had  left  the  car  in  charge  of  what  De 
Maistre  calls  one's  bete,  but  what  we  think  it 
more  elegant  to  call  the  "subconscious,"  while 
my  "self"  had  shpped  back  into  the  past  to  hold 
converse  with  the  mighty. 

It  was  a  foolish-looking  "6efe"  which  smiled  at 
the  lady.  But  there  was  no  answering  smile. 
Indeed,  she  was  quite  enraged,  and  while  her 
husband — I  hope  it  was  her  husband — ^backed  his 
car  and  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  road, 
much  as  one  would  go  round  a  sweep  rather  than 
touch  him,  she  stood  up  in  the  car  and,  in  a  tone 
worthy  of  Mrs.  Raddles,  told  me  what  she  thought 
of  me  and  of  my  unhappy  country.  It  was  not 
"hands,"  it  was  ''claws,"  across  the  sea! 

Well,  I  learned  a  good  deal  that  day:  first,  that 
in  England  the  right  side  of  the  road  is  the  wrong 
[36] 


THE  END  OF  THE  NORTH  ROAD 

side,  and,  second,  that  while  a  "soft  answer  may 
turn  away  wrath,"  there  is  nothing  that  so  exas- 
perates an  angry  woman  as  to  sit  silent  and  smile 
like  an  imbecile ! 

I  had  intended  to  pass  the  night  at  Grantham, 
but  finding  it  would  make  too  long  a  day  at  the 
rate  at  which  I  was  traveUing,  I  turned  aside  to 
Peterborough. 

My  education  in  motoring  progressed  by  learn- 
ing something  about  the  rate  of  traveUing.  I  had 
been  told  that  twenty  miles  an  hour  was  a  safe 
and  comfortable  speed,  and  consequently  seldom 
allowed  the  speedometer  to  rise  above  that  figure. 
But  when  I  found  how  often  I  had  to  slow  down 
in  passing  through  a  village,  and  to  stop  altogether 
in  towns  on  account  of  traffic,  I  found  that  one 
must  keep  pretty  steadily  at  "thirty"  to  average 
twenty  miles  an  hour. 

To  this  rule  ought  to  be  added  the  remark  that 
the  driver  who  has  an  instinct  for  getting  off  the 
road  loses  more  time  in  a  day  than  is  expected ! 

The  entrance  to  the  stable-yard  at  the  inn  in 
Peterborough,  as  is  frequently  the  case  in  old  inns, 
leads  under  a  narrow  archway.  These  were  built 
when  the  farmer's  two-wheeled  gigs  were  the 
vogue  and  were  no  inconvenience  to  the  driver. 
But  it  requires  skilful  management  to  turn  a 
motor  into  one  without  touching  the  brickwork 
on  either  side.  If  the  hub  of  a  gig  colhded  with 
[37  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

the  masonry,  it  was  the  brickwork  which  gave 
way.  But  the  mud-guard  of  a  motor  is  about 
as  pHable  as  metal  can  well  be.  If  an  archway 
could  speak  it  would  doubtless  have  many  a  joy- 
ful thing  to  say  about  these  new-fangled  machines ! 
How  proudly  they  roll  up  the  High  Street !  How 
timidly  they  turn  the  corner  into  the  narrow  way ! 
How  fearfully  they  crawl  toward  the  opening  in 
the  yard!  The  reckless  gigs  took  the  turning 
with  a  careless  swing  and,  not  infrequently,  nipped 
the  buttress,  as  the  deep  groove  in  the  brickwork 
shows.  Alas!  I  had  not  yet  learned  caution, 
and  a  crumpled  mud-guard  was  the  penalty.  The 
grinning  ostler  did  what  he  could  to  bend  it 
into  shape,  but  never  again  would  it  have  the 
smart  appearance  it  once  had,  and  every  chauffeur 
would  look  with  scorn  on  the  foolish  man  who  had 
tried  to  do  what  the  natty  gigs  had  often  done 
and  been  none  the  worse  for !  We  are  a  swifter 
race  than  our  fathers,  but  a  motor  will  no  more 
stand  what  the  old  carts  did  than  a  chauffeur  can 
drink  as  did  those  old  Jehus,  without  paying  a 
heavy  penalty. 

There  was  stiU  time  to  see  the  cathedral  before 
the  doors  would  be  closed  for  the  night,  and 
thither  I  took  my  way.  You  know  the  great 
church  too  well  for  me  to  dwell  upon  it.  It  is  not 
one  of  the  greatest  of  the  English  cathedrals;  it 
lacks  the  majesty  of  the  great  fortress  at  Durham; 
[38] 


THE  END  OF  THE  NORTH  ROAD 

it  has  not  the  intricate — I  had  almost  said  self- 
conscious — beauty  of  Lincoln;  it  is  not  so  vast 
as  Ely,  which,  as  I  once  heard  you  say,  "rises 
out  of  the  Fens  as  if  typifying  the  conquest  of 
heathendom  by  the  Cross";  nor  is  it  so  rich  in 
architectural  treasures  as  Gloucester — ^but  how 
impressive  is  its  simple  dignity!  Here,  I  think, 
one  feels  less  than  in  the  others  that  it  was  in- 
tended for  another  service — that  is  for  the  wor- 
ship of  another  God!  Here  is  enshrined  the 
block-Uke  solidity  of  the  English  character. 
When,  next  morning,  I  hstened  to  the  famihar 
words,  "Our  fathers  have  told  us  what  thou  hast 
done,  in  their  time  of  old,"  I  felt  that  the  setting 
was  perfect  for  that  liturgy  which  has  been  the 
most  successful  in  building  a  bridge  by  which  the 
souls  of  men  might  pass  from  a  Ptolemaic  to  a 
Darwinian  universe. 

The  car  "pulled"  well,  and  there  were  no  ex- 
citing incidents  to  report  for  the  next  two  days. 
The  road  runs  through  Grantham  and  then 
through  Newark,  where  the  beautiful  spire  of  the 
parish  church  rises  from  the  market-place.  Here, 
too,  a  fine  bridge  crosses  the  Trent.  But  I  looked 
in  vain  for  the  "monstrous  can  tie"  which  Hot- 
spur complained  the  river  "cranking  in"  had  cut 
out !  Perhaps  it  was  not  here  but  at  some  other 
part  of  the  river,  or  perhaps  it  was  not  true  at  all, 
and  Hotspur  was  only  trying  to  get  a  "rise"  out 
[39] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

of  Glendower!  It  is  no  matter.  It  only  came 
to  my  mind  as  I  saw  the  Trent  for  the  first  time. 

Donchester  comes  next,  but  as  I  did  not  pass 
by  the  race-course,  I  can  give  you  no  tips ! 

After  this  the  road  enters  the  roUing  Yorkshire 
hills,  where,  if  the  surface  were  not  so  good, 
changes  of  gear  would  be  frequent,  so  sharp  are 
the  rises  of  the  short  hills. 

In  the  early  afternoon  the  towers  of  Fountain's 
Abbey  rose  above  the  tree-tops,  but  I  did  not 
stop,  for  I  was  more  than  ready  for  tea,  and,  more- 
over, I  hasted  to  reach  the  "Beeches,"  where  I 
knew  a  cordial  English  welcome,  mixed  with  a 
dash  of  American  "gush,"  awaited  me. 


IX 

AN  ENGLISH   INTERIOR 

John  said  this  morning  that  he  was  so  busy  I 
must  write.  He  added  that  as  all  his  letters  had 
been  "outsides,"  mine  must  be  an  "inside"  I 

If  you  ask  what  keeps  him  busy,  the  answer  is 
the  car.  He  and  the  chauffeur  of  the  house  are, 
I  think,  breaking  the  motor  to  pieces.  Not  that 
there  was  anything  the  matter  with  it  so  far  as  I 
could  see,  but  John  said  it  was  "not  pulling  just 
right,"  which,  I  beheve,  is  like  the  small  boy's 
[  40  1 


AN  ENGLISH  INTERIOR 


excuse  for  taking  a  watch  to  pieces.  He  wants 
to  see  the  "wheels  go  round" !  At  any  rate,  the 
stable-yard  is  a  sight!  And  so  is  John!  The 
chauffeur  has  been  dragged  away  from  the  fas- 
cinating game,  but  a  boy  of  about  fourteen  is 
acting  as  "plumber  assistant."  I  stepped  out  for 
a  moment  and  heard  John  say,  "Here,  Will- 
iam, hand  me  that  spanner,"  and  WilUam  reply: 
"Spanner,  sir,  yes,  sir,  spanner."  John  caught 
my  eye  and  grinned,  and  at  the  same  instant  I 
caught  WiUiam  winking  at  "cook,"  for  which,  I 
venture  the  guess,  he  will  be  disciplined,  for  fa- 
miliarity does  not  have  much  chance  to  breed 
contempt  in  the  servants'  hall!  However,  I  re- 
membered that  if  this  is  to  be  an  "inside"  letter, 
I  must  go  inside  to  write  it. 

We  have  now  been  here  a  little  more  than  a 
week,  and  I  am  filled  with  admiration,  not,  I  fear, 
unmixed  with  envy,  at  the  way  this  great  house 
seems  to  run  itself.  Of  course,  being  a  woman,  my 
first  interest  was  in  the  "servant  problem,"  which, 
so  far  as  I  can  see,  does  not  exist.  Sir  Thomas  is 
not  rich  as  we  count  riches,  but  there  are  servants 
enough,  I  should  think,  to  run  a  hotel !  And  such 
servants!  Trim,  neat,  perfectly  trained,  and 
always  respectful.  Of  course,  in  England  serving 
is  a  profession — once  a  servant  always  a  servant — 
which  must  have  what  you  would  call  a  psychologi- 
cal effect.  Then  servants  and  masters  are  of  the 
[41  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

same  race  and  have  the  same  religion.  Surely 
there  must  be  a  spiritual  bond  between  people 
who  begin  the  day's  work  with  prayer. 

I  talked  this  over  with  Maud.  She  began  to 
say,  "  In  forming  one's  opinion  on  facts  with  which 
one  is  not  familiar,"  but  I  stopped  her,  saying: 
"That  won't  do.  You  are  talking  just  hke 
Thomas."  She  blushed  a  little  at  this,  but  an- 
swered defiantly:  "Well,  he  is  a  good  person  to 
talk  hke." 

"No,"  I  answered,  "no  one  is  good  to  talk  hke." 

She  laughed  at  this  queer  sentence  and  then, 
with  a  true  Yankee  drawl,  imitating  old  Captain 
Hyde,  of  Silver  Harbor,  said:  "Well,  by  Godfrey, 
I  ain't  never  seen  a  pancake  so  thin  it  didn't  have 
a  nunder  side!" 

"Well,"  said  I,  "what  is  the  under  side  to  this 
pancake  .►^" 

"It  is  this:  while  it  is  true  we  pay  about  half 
as  much  for  servants  here  as  we  do  at  home,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  must  have  twice  the  number. 
Everything  is  so  speciahzed  that  if  one  were  to 
ask  the  parlor-maid  to  do  a  piece  of  work  which 
properly  belongs  to  the  housemaid,  it  would  be 
hke  asking  Dr.  Shattuck  to  pull  a  tooth !" 

"Do  you  mean  that  in  case  of  sickness  one  of 
them  would  not  lend  a  hand  with  another's 
work  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  literally,  but  it  would  be 
[42] 


AN  ENGLISH  INTERIOR 


a  favor  that  could  not  be  counted  on,  and  if  it 
happened  often  enough  to  have  the  look  of  estab- 
Hshing  a  precedent — unless  you  have  lived  in 
England  you  can  have  no  understanding  of  what 
a  precedent  means — she  would  probably  'give 
warning,'  and  if  you  think  it  pleasant  to  live  in 
the  house  for  a  month  with  a  young  person  who 
has  given  warm'ng,  you  are  mistaken!" 

"Well,  why  not  pay  her  a  month's  wages  and 
ler  her  go?" 

"You  cause  me  to  smile !  In  the  first  place,  it 
would  be  considered  extravagant,  and,  besides, 
it  might  do  the  girl  an  injustice.  It  might  be 
thought  a  reflection  on  her  character.  The  'jus- 
tice' of  the  Enghsh  is,  in  my  opinion,  carried  to 
an  extreme!  Nor  are  these  the  only  reasons. 
You  can't  imagine  the  difficulties  of  replacing  a 
servant.  Endless  questions  have  to  be  asked, 
such  as  whether  she  is  Church  of  England  or 
'Chapel,'  and  much  more  intimate  questions  that 
you  would  think — and  so  do  I — are  none  of  one's 
business.  It  is  not  as  it  was  in  Boston,  where  if 
Mary  Maloney  said  *I  think  I'll  be  leaving  you,' 
all  you  had  to  do  would  be  to  step  around  into 
Charles  Street  and  tell  your  troubles  to  Mrs. 
McCarthy,  and,  behold !  she  would  have  'A  noice 
girrl,  not  long  over,  not  knowin'  all  the  ways, 
maybe,  but  wilhn'  to  learn,  and  comin'  of  decent 
people.'  It  is  true  she  wouldn't  know  a  dust- 
143] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

pan  from  a  skillet,  but  she  would  do  what  she 
was  told,  £ind  soon  have  an  interest  in  the  family 
and  be  loyal  to  them. 

"She  would  not  join  in  family  prayers,  and  in- 
deed at  first  would  run  out  into  the  pantry  when 
papa  said  grace,  but  in  case  of  sickness  she  would 
take  part  of  her  afternoon  'off'  to  go  to  church 
to  pray  for  the  baby,  or  maybe  burn  a  candle  to 
the  saint  who  specialized  in  your  trouble !  They 
are  not  neat,  they  are  not  well  trained,  they  are 
not  bigoted  about  truth,  but  they  are  human!" 

"Maud  Simpson!"  I  cried,  "how  many  times 
have  I  heard  you  say :  '  If  I  only  had  nice  English 
servants  I  should  ask  for  nothing  more  in  life'? 
I  don't  believe  you  mean  it." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  don't.  The  fact  is  that  under- 
housemaid  spoke  to  me  this  morning  with  that 
correct  insolence  one  cannot  take  hold  of,  and  I 
have  been  feeling  all  day  as  if  I  would  rather  be 
'sassed'  by  Katie  Hogan!" 


X 

HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 

It  was  not  till  later  in  the  day  that  I  had  an 

opportunity  of  continuing  my  conversation  with 

Maud,  and  when  I  did  I  took  it  up  where  we  had 

left  it,  and  said:   "Well,  at  any  rate  there  is  no 

[  44] 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 


'under  side'  to  the  Miles  'pancake'!  Miles,  I 
should  explain,  is  the  'Nanny'  or  nurse. 

"Really,"  said  she,  "that  is  almost  Uterally 
true.     She  is  wonderful." 

"Why  is  it,"  I  asked,  "that  we  have  never  been 
able  to  get  anything  hke  that  at  home  ?  When  I 
think  of  the  Irish  nurses  who  are  kind  and  faith- 
ful, no  doubt,  but  quite  untruthful,  and  speak 
with  an  Irish-American  accent  which  is  making 
the  English  language,  as  spoken  in  America,  the 
most  unmusical  tongue  in  the  world,  and  then  see 
how  these  English  children  are  taught,  almost 
from  the  cradle,  to  speak  clearly,  softly,  and  mu- 
sically, I  am  ashamed  of  the  way  in  which  we 
have  wasted  our  heritage.  Why  is  it  we  cannot 
find  women  like  our  trained  nurses  who  would 
undertake  the  task  of  training  the  children  to 
speak  the  language  of  Shakespeare,  of  which  we 
hear  so  much  and  speak  so  Httle  P  Why  is  it  not 
as  iateresting  to  teach  good  manners  to  the  lead- 
ers of  our  futm-e  society  as  to  keep  their  pampered 
little  bodies  healthy  .^*  Why  are  the  girls  who  are 
starving  on  the  pay  of  a  school-teacher  unwilling 
to  undertake  the  fundamental  education  of  the 
favored  classes,  not  as  menials,  but  as  honored 
and  respected  friends,  treated  exactly  as  our 
trained  nurses  are.*^    Why  is  it.^*" 

"For  mercy's  sake  stop,"  cried  Maud.  "You 
make  my  head  swim  with  your  'whys' !  If  I  try 
[45] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

to  answer  any  of  your  questions  you  will  say  I 
am  talking  like  Thomas." 

"Never  mind  whom  you  talk  hke,  if  only  you 
answer  them,"  I  repHed. 

"Well,  I  don't  believe  any  one  can  answer 
them  all,  but  one  difficulty  in  the  importation  of 
the  'Nanny'  is  that  you  do  not  understand  the 
secret  spring  of  English  life,  i.  e.,  of  people  of  a 
certain  position.  Of  course  a  nursery  like  this 
cannot  be  found  in  a  house  of  people  of  small 
means.  The  head  nurse  is  waited  on  by  the 
second  nurse,  and  is  obeyed  by  the  other  servants. 
She  does  not  take  her  meals  in  the  servants' 
hall,  but  is  served  in  the  nursery.  She  holds  the 
position  of  an  N.  C.  0.  in  the  army.  The  whole 
American  household  would  have  to  be  changed 
to  make  way  for  the  English  nurse." 

"Very  hkely,"  I  said,  "but  why  should  that 
not  be  done.»^  Look  how  the  rich  at  home  ape 
the  English  with  their  silly  footmen  and  insolent 
butlers!  Surely  they  could  find  a  place  for  such 
a  nurse  as  Miles,  who  would  teach  their  children 
to  be  interested  in  simple  things  and  to  use  their 
voices  so  that  speaking  would  be  hke  singing. 
Why,  I  know  EngHsh  children  of  nine  years  of 
age  who  have  a  vocabulary  which  a  sophomore 
with  us  might  envy !  Only  yesterday  when  I 
stopped  Edward  when  he  was  on  his  way  to  work 
in  his  garden,  he  said:  'Excuse  me,  Aunt  Ruth, 
[46] 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 


but  my  business  is  rather  urgent!'  'Urgent!' 
Could  President  Eliot  have  said  better?  And 
yet  he  is  far  from  being  a  prig.  Indeed,  to  speak 
frankly,  he  is  a  limb !  I  tell  you  what  the  Ameri- 
can home  would  have  to  do  first:  it  would  have 
to  dispense  with  the  services  of  the  trained  nurse ! 
I  wouldn't  admit  it  to  an  Englishwoman,  but  the 
trained  nurse  is  an  American  institution  because 
so  many  women  'enjoy  ill  health.'  Think  how 
many  houses  there  are  where,  if  the  mother  needs 
a  holiday,  say  for  a  week  or  so,  the  trained  nurse 
is  installed,  and  the  temperature  of  a  healthy 
child  is  taken  three  times  a  day!  Think  of  the 
'homes'  where  the  trained  nurse  is  kept  by  the 
year !  Is  it  any  wonder  Christian  Science  makes 
headway?  It  is  the  inevitable  reaction  from  all 
this  fussing  about  disease.  I  hope  the  day  will 
come  when  it  will  be  an  'unseemly'  thing  to  speak 
of  sickness.  We  spread  contagion  with  our 
tongues!" 

"Whose  talking  like  some  one  now?"  said 
Maud.  "You  sound  hke  John."  Then,  when 
she  had  finished  laughing  at  her  own  wit,  she 
continued:  "After  all,  you  are  talking  about  a 
very  limited  class,  what  papa  used  to  call  'fluff.'" 

"That  may  be;  still  there  are  many  people  who 
could  weU  afford  to  pay  an  English  nurse  what 
they  are  paying  a  trained  nurse  and  save  money 
by  so  doing." 

[47  J 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"Yes,  but  it  is  more  than  a  question  of  money 
— indeed,  money  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The 
truth  is  the  'Nanny'  is  the  last  blooming  of  the 
feudal  system.  These  women  have  the  hearts  of 
the  old  retainers.  They  identify  themselves  with 
the  families  they  serve,  and  are  as  proud  of  the 
children  as  if  they  were  their  own.  Can  you 
imagine  Miles  taking  a  place  with  the  Rosenthals  ? 
No,  she  is  a  part  of  this  family,  and  the  children 
no  more  think  of  parting  with  her  than  with  me. 
As  long  as  she  lives  she  will  be  a  part  of  their 
lives.  The  mails  from  all  over  the  world  bring 
letters  to  the  'Nannies'  from  men  whose  names 
the  whole  world  knows.  So,  while  you  might 
import  Miles,  you  could  not  graft  her  into  a  social 
democracy!  A  certain  noble  lord  was  once  ac- 
cused of  being  a  'snob.'  He  laughingly  replied: 
'  You  should  see  my  Nanny ! ' 

"Then  there  is  another  difficulty — such  people 
as  Alice  Burns  and  Elsie  Graham,  who  do  not  see 
their  children  once  a  week,  who  meet  the  doctor, 
for  whom  the  trained  nurse  sent,  as  they  leave 
the  house  to  go  to  dinner  or  to  the  opera,  and 
ask  him  if  'it'  is  contagious,  but  are  afrEiid  to  go 
and  see  for  themselves,  might  be  willing  to  have 
such  an  one  as  Miles,  if  it  became  the  fashion,  but 
the  typical  American  mother  would  not  allow 
another  woman  to  have  such  authority  over  her 
children  as  the  English  nurse  has.  It  is  she  who 
[48] 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 


decides  whether  the  children  shall  be  dosed, 
whether  they  should  be  punished,  and  whether 
their  conduct  has  been  such  as  to  justify  their 
appearance  at  lunch,  or,  if  so,  whether  they  de- 
serve 'sweets'!  Can  you  imagine  Mrs.  Sher- 
burne allowing  that — or  Mr.  Sherburne,  either  .►^" 

I  had  to  admit  that  I  should  not  hke  that  side 
of  it. 

"Then,"  said  Maud,  "you  had  better  give  up 
all  thoughts  of  Miles!" 

"But  how  do  EngHsh  mothers  like  it.»*" 

"They  accept  it  as  part  of  the  universe,  like 
vegetable  marrow  and  cold  rooms!  But  there  is 
something  more  that  I  do  not  suppose  you  can 
imderstand.  Englishwomen  do  not  crave  the 
society  of  their  children  as  American  women  do, 
because  they  have  the  companionship  of  their 
husbands  to  a  degree  unknown  at  home." 

"You  must  be  crazy!  There  is  more  true 
companionship  between  husbands  and  wives  in 
America  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world." 

"Don't  get  excited,"  said  Maud.  "It  is  not 
the  Fourth  of  July !  I  was  not  speaking  of  qual- 
ity but  of  quantity.  The  management  of  the 
household  is  not  left  to  women,  as  it  is  at  home. 
The  husband  and  wife  consult  about  a  thousand 
things  that  American  husbands  know  nothing 
about.  If  the  husband  is  in  pohtics,  as  Thomas  is, 
the  wife  visits  the  constituency  and  makes  speeches 
[49] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

£is  well  as  the  man.  At  any  dinner  you  will  notice 
that  the  women  talk  politics  as  inteUigently  as 
the  men  do.  Such  intellectual  companionship 
would  be  impossible  if  the  woman  were  tied  down 
to  the  nursery.  How  many  really  inteUigent  men 
does  one  meet  at  a  dinner-party  in  Boston  or  New 
York.^  They  will  not  accept  such  invitations, 
because  the  women  are  not  their  intellectual  com- 
panions. They  are  beautifully  gowned  and  lovely 
to  look  at,  but  they  expect  to  be  admired  every 
minute !  Then  take  the  institution  of  'the  week- 
end.' If  people  are  not  stopping  here,  Thomas 
and  I  are  off  to  some  other  house.  I  have  a  quiet 
mind  because  Miles  is  here.  No,  a  'Nanny'  is 
as  necessary  in  an  English  house  as  is  an  N.  C.  0. 
in  the  army,  for  the  rules  of  the  house  are  equally 
strict." 

Some  of  those  rules  strike  us  as  queer.  For 
instance,  even  when  only  the  family  is  present, 
dinner  is  a  formal  affair.  Instead  of  gathering 
in  the  hall  as  before  lunch,  we  assemble  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  when  the  hour  strikes,  the 
butler  appears  and  announces:  "Dinner  is  served, 
Sir  Thomas !"  I  confess  when  I  first  heard  that, 
my  eyebrows  went  up  a  trifle.  Maud  saw  it  and 
laughed.  "Yes,"  she  said,  "I  felt  that  way  at 
first,  and  told  Thomas  that  if  the  butler  thought 
he  could  ignore  me,  he  was  mistaken ! " 

"I  think,  my  dear,  what  you  said  was  that  'he 
[50] 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 


had  another  guess  coming,'"  said  Thomas,  with 
a  smile. 

"I  'guess'  I  did,"  laughed  Maud.  "At  any 
rate,  now  that  I  understand  the  reason,  I  submit, 
I  hope,  gracefully." 

"You  could  not  do  anything  otherwise,"  he 
repUed. 

"Well,"  I  exclaimed,  "when  the  billing  and 
cooing  are  over,  I  too  should  hke  to  know  the 
reason." 

"Every  country  has  its  customs,"  said  Sir 
Thomas,  I  thought  a  bit  stohdly.  "America  has 
hers  and  England  hers.  The  difference  is  that  the 
English  can  give  a  reason  for  theirs,  whereas  I 
doubt  if  Americans  always  can." 

I  saw  he  was  trying  to  get  a  "rise"  out  of  me 
and  so  answered:  "Such  as?" 

"Well,  for  instance,  if  a  man  goes  to  church  in 
America,  he  takes  the  aisle  seat,  and  if  a  lady 
enters  he  steps  out  and  allows  her  to  pass,  instead 
of  moving  up  as  an  Englishman  would  do.  Is 
there  any  reason  for  that.*^" 

"Certainly,"  I  answered.  "That  is  a  sur- 
vival of  the  custom  of  the  early  days  when  the 
men  went  to  church  carrying  their  flintlocks, 
which  they  might  be  called  upon  to  use  against 
the  Indians  at  any  minute,  and  could  not  wait 
for  the  women  and  children  to  clear  the  way." 

"That  strikes  me  as  an  interesting  explanation 
[51] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

of  the  origin  of  a  custom  rather  than  as  a  reason 
for  its  continuance.  Indeed,  I  would  suggest 
that  it  is  a  custom  that  might  be  discontinued 
with  advantage,  for  it  seems  to  have  been  carried 
from  the  church  to  the  trams,  and  is,  I  suppose, 
accountable  for  the  existence  of  what  I  have  seen 
in  the  American  papers  called  'the  end-seat  hog.'" 

We  all  laughed  at  this,  but  I  said  it  looked  to 
me  like  a  red  herring. 

But  he  said:  "No,  the  EngHsh  custom  of  hav- 
ing the  host  rather  than  the  hostess  notified  of 
the  serving  of  dinner  is  not  merely  a  survival 
from  the  days  when  women  counted  for  little, 
but  has  a  practical  value  to-day.  Inasmuch  as 
the  host  is  expected  to  '  take  in '  the  lady  of  lead- 
ing rank,  it  is  of  consequence  that  he,  and  not  the 
hostess,  who  comes  last,  should  be  informed  when 
the  procession  should  start." 

I  must  say  that  seems  a  reasonable  explanation. 
And  when  I  think  of  the  confusion  that  is  apt  to 
follow  at  home  when  we  try  to  be  formal — as,  for 
instance,  when  the  host  is  talking  to  the  prettiest 
girl  in  the  room  up  to  the  last  minute,  and  his 
wife  has  to  inform  him  that  dinner  is  ready,  be- 
cause his  charmer  has  been  so  engrossing  that  he 
has  not  heard  the  butler,  and  he  hastens  to  escort 
the  "lady"  of  a  congressman,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  we  had  better  follow  the  English  way  or 
[52] 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 


else  revert  to  the  primitive  custom  of  "choosing 
partners" ! 

You  will  think  I  have  been  reading  the  Countess, 
or  one  of  the  other  papers  which  teach  the  middle 
classes  to  ape  the  aristocracy,  and  are  probably 
muttering:  "What  earthly  difference  does  it 
make  to  us  what  are  the  customs  of  a  society 
which  is  soon  to  pass  away  ?  "  But  you  are  wrong. 
This  particular  thing  is  of  no  value,  as  you  and  I 
both  know.  The  point  is,  we  Americans  are  con- 
tinually saying  that  the  Enghsh  do  not  under- 
stand us.  Do  we  understand  them  ?  If  we  would 
take  the  trouble  to  learn  the  reason  for  some  of 
our  differences,  would  it  not  do  more  for  the  peace 
of  the  world  than  all  those  stupid  banquets,  with 
their  talk  about  "our  common  blood,"  when  every 
one  knows  that  at  least  a  third  of  those  present 
have  not  a  drop  of  English  blood  in  their  veins, 
and  some  of  them,  as  Roosevelt  is  reported  to 
have  said,  "thank  God  for  it".^ 

John  is  calling  to  know  if  I  intend  to  type  all 
night,  and  you  will  long  ago  have  wished  that  I 
would  stop!  Well,  you  will  not  be  troubled  by 
me  soon  again,  for  to-morrow  we  start  on  our  trip, 
and  John  will  want  to  tell  you  about  it  himself. 


[53  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 


XI 

THE  FOURTH  SPEED 

TfflS  came  near  being  my  last  letter  to  you. 
No,  that  does  not  look  right!  What  I  mean  is 
the  one  before  this  came  near  being  the  last. 
This  is  what  happened:  When  we  were  leaving 
the  "Beeches"  a  few  days  ago,  my  brother-in-law, 
in  looking  over  the  car,  discovered  the  "fourth 
speed."  As  he  had  never  seen  one  on  an  English 
car,  he  asked  me  what  value  it  had.  I  was  not 
quite  clear  in  my  own  mind  as  to  its  value,  and 
tried  to  recall  what  the  agent  had  said  about  it. 
Finally  I  remarked  that  I  had  not  had  occasion 
to  use  it  as  yet,  but  that  it  was  a  good  thing  to 
have,  because  when  one  was  running  at  forty 
miles  or  more,  it  steadied  the  car  and  took  the 
strain  off  the  engine. 

"Good  Lord,"  he  exclaimed,  "you  don't  mean 
to  say  you  are  going  to  drive  forty  miles  an  hour, 
do  you.^*" 

"No,  not  at  present,  but  it's  a  good  thing  to 
have  if  one  should  want  it." 

"  I  should  think  it  a  jolly  good  thing  to  have  if 
I  were  tired  of  life  or  of  my  wife !" 

This  rather  nettled  me,  but  I  said  nothing, 
chiefly  because  I  did  not  know  what  to  say  !  But 
I  thought  he  was  probably  right,  and  that  I  could 
[54] 


THE  FOURTH  SPEED 


get  all  the  speed  I  could  control  by  running  in 
"high." 

It  was  one  of  those  days,  cool,  dry,  shining, 
which  are  as  rare  in  England  as  they  are  common 
at  home,  say  in  October.  A  day  on  which  one 
feels  it  is  good  to  be  alive.  I  was  glad  of  this  for 
Ruth's  sake,  for  she  was  sad  at  parting  with  her 
sister  and  the  children,  and  I  was  glad  for  my  own 
sake,  because  I  like  to  feel  that  it  is  good  to  be 
ahve!  I  was  also  glad  for  the  motor's  sake,  for 
it  was  running  "fine"  !  Perhaps  the  reason  both 
we  and  the  motor  rejoiced  was  because  both 
human  and  mechanical  engines  function  best 
when  there  is  an  uninterrupted  flow  of  the  electric 
current  upon  which  both  depend  for  their  greatest 
efficiency.  At  any  rate,  the  car  seemed  alive, 
and  "pulled  hke  a  good  'un,"  as  Sir  Thomas's 
chauffeur  remarked  as  we  drove  away. 

I  know  you  have  driven  over  the  hills  of  the 
"West  Riding,"  and  therefore  remember  that  it 
is  all  "up  hill  and  down  dale."  But  with  you  the 
horse  slowly  mounted  the  hills  and  then  held  back 
on  the  descent.  But  with  a  motor  it  is  different; 
the  hills  must  be  rushed  so  that  one  mounts  half- 
way up  the  opposing  rise  before  the  impetus  of  the 
descent  is  lost.  This  requires  constant  shifting 
of  gears  which  becomes  rather  tiresome,  and  after 
a  while  one  begins  to  look  for  a  bit  of  level  ground 
on  which  the  car  will  run  without  much  attention 
[55] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

from  the  driver,  or  for  a  long  straight  hill,  not  too 
steep,  down  which  one  can  coast. 

Such  a  hill  we  soon  reached.  But  as  we  began 
the  descent  I  saw  that  it  was  steeper  than  I  had 
supposed,  and  so  began  the  descent  slowly.  But 
the  car  soon  gained  a  greater  speed  than  I  wished, 
so  I  threw  her  into  second  and  pressed  on  the 
foot-brake.  StUl  she  ran  too  fast,  and  I  saw  that 
this  was  a  steeper  hill  than  I  had  ever  met,  and 
much  as  I  disliked  doing  so,  knowing  how  ruinous 
it  is  to  the  tires,  I  put  on  the  emergency  brake. 
But  what  was  my  horror  to  find  that  we  were 
now  shooting  down  the  hill  at  a  speed  greater 
than  I  had  ever  felt  since  the  days  when  I  tobog- 
ganed! However,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be 
done,  and  I  could  only  hope  that  we  should  meet 
nothing  in  the  way.  But  that  hope  was  short- 
hved,  for  at  the  moment  I  saw,  near  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  a  picnic  party  which  had  backed  their 
pony-cart  against  the  hedge,  leaving  the  pony 
standing  across  the  road  while  they  leisurely  un- 
packed a  lunch-basket  and  other  paraphemaha 
for  a  feast.  It  was  true  there  was  room  to  pass 
if  one  drove  carefuUy  and  slowly,  but  we  were 
not  going  slowly!  Indeed,  one  glance  at  the 
speedometer  brought  my  heart  into  my  throat! 
I  have  read  of  men  who  were  cool  in  moments  of 
danger — I  must  be  a  hero,  for  I  was  cold  !  I  could 
only  hope  that  Ruth  had  not  seen,  or,  if  she  had, 
[56] 


THE  FOURTH  SPEED 


had  not  understood.  I  blew  the  klaxon  furiously ; 
saw  a  boy  run  to  the  pony's  head.  I  blew  agEiin 
two  sharp  blasts,  and,  fortunately,  he  had  sense 
enough  to  see  he  should  be  struck,  and  so  jumped 
clear.  The  pony  threw  back  his  head  with  a 
snort,  and  we  shot  by  without  an  inch  to  spare 
between  the  cart  and  a  sohd  stone  post  opposite. 
Ruth  was  as  white  as  death  but  uttered  no  sound. 
The  silence  was  broken  by  the  voice  of  the  child 
who  had  been  so  near  death.  But  what  he  said 
seemed  inadequate.  It  was :  "  Oh,  I  say ! "  James 
Freeman  Clarke  attributed  the  profanity  of  the 
kindly  boatmen  on  the  Ohio  River  to  a  lack  of 
vocabulary.  Perhaps  that  was  the  reason  the 
boy  did  not  swear ! 

Well,  the  longest  lane  has  a  turning  and  the 
steepest  hill  a  bottom,  so  at  length  the  car  began 
to  slow  down  as  it  struck  the  opposite  rise,  and 
finally  came  to  a  full  stop. 

Then  Ruth  spoke.  But,  angel  as  she  is,  all  she 
said  was:  "Don't  you  think,  dear,  that  was  a 
little  fast?" 

I  said  I  thought  it  was,  and  that  I  would  go 
slower  hereafter  I 

I  could  not  imagine  what  had  happened.  The 
brakes  were  new,  and  while  the  chauffeur  at  the 
"Beeches"  had  warned  me  that  they  were  too 
light,  I  thought  that  was  because  he  did  not  un- 
derstand the  difference  there  is  in  weight  between 
[57] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

an  English  and  an  American  car.  As  I  say,  I 
could  not  understand  it.  The  ceo*  had  behaved 
as  if  it  were  ahve — ^like  a  high-spirited  horse, 
"full  of  beans,"  who  had  taken  the  bit  into  its 
teeth  and  bolted. 

I  descended  and  took  a  good  look  at  every  part 
of  the  machine.  I  found  that  the  foot-brake  was 
in  order,  but  the  emergency  brake  had  not  been 
touched.  I  have  no  doubt  that  such  a  student  of 
the  "subconscious"  as  yourself  has  already  dis- 
covered the  answer  to  the  riddle.  Yes,  you  are 
right !  It  was  Sir  Thomas's  foohshness  in  talking 
about  the  "fourth  speed,"  as  I  was  leaving,  that 
had  lodged  in  my  subconscious  mind  and  led  me 
to  pull,  not  the  emergency  brake,  but  the  fourth- 
speed  lever ! 

I  asked  a  laborer,  plodding  home  to  his  dinner, 
the  name  of  the  little  hamlet  at  the  top  of  the 
hill.    He  answered:  "Sawley." 

"Why,  that  can  hardly  be,"  I  replied.  "I 
passed  Sawley  soon  after  leaving  Ripon." 

"Ay,"  he  replied,  "there  be  two  of  'em." 

"Well,  one  is  enough  for  me,"  I  answered. 

He  made  no  reply;  simply  stared  at  me  as  if 
he  thought  I  was  a  fool.    I  guess  he  was  right ! 

The  motor-car  has  completed  the  work  begun 

by  the  bicycle  of  breaking  down  "the  middle  wall 

of  partition"   which   divided   Englishmen   from 

strangers.     The  motor  is  a  letter  of  introduction 

[58] 


THE  FOURTH  SPEED 


to  every  owner.  At  the  inn  where  we  stopped  for 
lunch  were  a  young  couple  who,  like  ourselves, 
were  making  a  trip,  and  when  I  asked  some  ques- 
tion about  roads  they  opened  their  maps  and  not 
only  gave  us  the  desired  information  but  also  a 
valuable  "tip,"  from  which  I  learned  on  authority 
what  otherwise  I  could  have  learned  only  by  ex- 
perience— that  is,  by  loss  of  time  and  labor. 

My  new  friend,  for  such  I  must  call  him,  was 
much  interested  on  learning  we  had  come  so  far, 
and  expressed  a  wish  to  see  an  American  car. 
He  was  greatly  impressed  by  the  "self-starter," 
but  insisted — as  did  every  other  Englishman  who 
spoke  to  me  on  the  subject — that  the  car  was  too 
light  to  stand  up  as  an  English  car  does.  He  also 
said  that  he  had  been  told  that  the  American 
brakes  were  not  to  be  depended  upon. 

This  led  to  a  confession  of  my  folly  of  the  morn- 
ing. I  should  have  thought  twice  before  telling 
it  to  a  fellow  countryman,  for  he  would  have 
thought  it  a  high  joke,  and  have  "rubbed  it  in." 
But  this  serious  young  man  was  filled  with  horror 
at  our  narrow  escape  from  death,  and  was  alto- 
gether sympathetic.  This  led  him  to  give  me 
the  "tip"  of  which  I  have  spoken.  It  was  very 
simple:  "In  descending  a  hill,"  said  he,  "judge 
its  angle  of  descent  and  adjust  your  gear  accord- 
ingly, then  switch  off  the  current,  let  in  the  clutch, 
and  the  engine  will  act  as  a  brake.  You  will 
[59] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

always  have  the  brakes  in  reserve,  but  seldom  use 
them.  I  have  been  over  the  highest  passes  of  the 
Alps,  with  the  exception  of  the  Stelvio,  without 
touching  the  brake." 

"All's  well  that  ends  well,"  but  I  wish  I  might 
have  known  this  simple  rule  earher  in  the  day  1 


XII 

"JAEL  THE  WIFE  OF  HEBER  THE  KENITE" 

John  has  not  written  lately  because  the  car  has 
been  running  well!  He  says  you  care  only  for 
"thrillers,"  and  that  there  have  been  none  since 
he  last  wrote.  "Laus  Deo!"  add  I.  So  to-day, 
which  is  a  Sunday,  I  am  writing  in  his  place. 

I  am  sorry  to  say  I  am  not  at  all  pleased  with 
him!  You  know  how  unconventional  and  out- 
spoken he  is;  well,  I  have  had  to  tell  him  more 
than  once  that  while  his  way  of  talking  is  well 
enough  at  home,  where  people  know  and  love  him, 
and  where,  even  if  they  do  not  know  him,  they 
are  more  or  less  Hke  him,  and  so  understand  that 
what  he  says  is  not  to  be  taken  au  pied  de  la  lettre, 
here  people  are  different — their  yea  is  yea,  and 
their  nay  nay.  The  English  are  not  only  matter 
of  fact,  but  have  an  awful  reverence  for  truth, 
and  do  not  understand  what  John  means  when 
[60] 


"JAEL  THE  WIFE  OF  HEBER  THE  KENITE" 

he  says  that  "Lying  can  be  the  highest  form  of 
truth"!  So  when  a  man  says  a  thing  they  not 
unnaturally  think  he  means  it. 

Well,  all  this  introduction  leads  to  the  events 
of  the  day.  This  morning  we  went  to  the  cathe- 
dral. I  must  say  it  was  a  shock  to  find  that 
there  were  less  than  a  hundred  people  in  the 
choir — where  the  service  was  held.  However,  all 
went  well  enough  until  the  sermon:  the  preacher 
announced — ^no,  sung — ^his  text,  "Blessed  among 
women  shall  Jael  the  wife  of  Heber  the  Kenite 
be.  Blessed  shall  she  be  among  women  in  the 
tent,"  and  then  proceeded:  "We  will  think  of 
Jael,  my  dear  brethren,  not  merely  as  the  wife  of 
Heber  the  Kenite,  but  rather  as  a  type  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin."  What  followed  I  shall  never 
know,  for  at  this  moment  John  picked  up  his  hat 
and  umbrella  and  left,  and  I,  fearing  he  might 
be  faint,  quickly  followed.  When  we  got  outside, 
I  said,  "Are  you  sick,  dear.^"  and  he  rephed: 
"Not  yet,  but  I  should  have  been  had  I  waited 
a  moment  longer." 

"Was  the  air  close .►^"  I  innocently  asked. 

"No,  it  was  as  damp  and  drafty  as  usual,  but 
I  could  not  have  stood  that  creature  another 
minute." 

Then  followed  a  diatribe  on  the  Established 
Church,  which  I  will  spare  you.  Before  he  had 
finished,  there  was  not  one  stone  left  upon  another 
[61  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

of  the  cathedral  system!  "Such  an  array  of 
clergy,  such  a  choir,  such  an  organ,  such  every- 
thing to  make  the  service  glorious,  and  yet  fewer 
people  than  could  be  found  in  a  mission  chapel — 
the  extravagance  of  it,  the  futility  of  it — why, 
haK  the  people  there  were  American  tourists! 
Why  don't  they  take  the  money  and  use  it  for 
some  good  purpose?" 

'"This  ointment  might  have  been  sold  for 
much,'"  I  quoted. 

"No,  you  don't,"  he  growled.  "Was  the 
'whole  house  filled  with  the  odor  of  the  ointment'  .»^ 
Is  England.**  Is  this  town.^  Was  the  great 
cathedral.**  Was  the  choir  even.^  There  was  no 
odor  of  ointment.  There  was  nothing  but  a 
stench!'' 

"John!"  I  protested. 

"WeU,  perhaps  that  was  too  strong.  But,  hon- 
estly, was  there  any  feeling  of  the  majesty  of 
God  there.**  I  say  nothing  of  his  love — any  pity 
for  poor  strugghng  souls.**  'A  type  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,'  forsooth !  If  he  must  talk  of  Jael,  why 
did  he  not  tell  the  truth  and  remind  the  people 
that  if  she  were  living  to-day  she  would  be  in 
jail — no,  that  is  not  a  pun — ^waiting  for  the  report 
of  the  grand  jury  .**  Is  it  not  due  to  Mary's  Son 
that  she  can  no  longer  be  counted  '  blessed '  .**  It 
is  not  the  blasphemy,  it  is  the  unreality  of  the 
whole  performance  which  is  so  dreadful.  The 
[62] 


"JAEL  THE  WIFE  OF  HEBER  THE  KENITE" 

preacher  no  doubt  is  a  decent,  law-abiding  Eng- 
lishman, who  would  be  horrified  if  he  read  such 
a  story  in  the  Times,  but  because  it  is  embedded 
in  the  Bible  he  considers  it  his  duty  to  find  a 
mystic  meaning  in  it.  This  sort  of  talk  is  what 
leads  to  moral  confusion,  and  is  one  of  the  reasons 
why  the  church  is  losing  its  hold  on  thoughtful 
people.  The  day  was  when  the  'world'  was  full 
of  darkness  and  the  church  full  of  light,  but  now 
the  'world'  has  a  clearer  moral  vision  than  the 
church — or,  at  any  rate,  than  that  preposterous 
creature  has." 

By  this  time,  as  you  may  beUeve,  there  was  not 
much  of  the  "joy  of  the  sanctuary"  left  in  me! 
We  walked  down  to  the  river,  and  after  a  long 
silence  John  began  to  recite: 

"O  Mary,  go  and  call  the  cattle  home, 
And  call  the  cattle  home. 
And  call  the  cattle  home, 
Across  the  sands  o'  Dee." 

The  tears  came  to  my  eyes,  and  John  said, 
now  quietly  and  reverently:  "He  was  a  man" — 
meaning  Kingsley — "and  there  must  be  some  like 
him.  But,  not  '  in  king's  houses '  I  Why  did  not 
the  preacher  call  tfiat  Mary  a  type  of  the  Virgin  ? 
Why  didn't  he  recite  the  'Sands  o'  Dee'.^  Is  it 
not  as  truly  inspired  as  Judges.^" 

By  this  time  my  ill  humor  had  passed,  and  I 
[63] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

said:  "Perhaps  because  he  could  not  recite  it  as 
well  as  you." 

John  laughed,  and  then  said,  "  I'm  sorry.  Let 
us  try  and  forget  him,"  meaning,  I  suppose,  the 
preacher,  who  probably  was  at  that  moment  eat- 
ing his  Sunday  roast  and  Kstening  to  his  wife's 
praises  of  the  sermon ! 

In  the  afternoon  I  announced  that  I  thought  of 
going  to  even-song,  and  to  my  dismay  John  said 
he  would  go  with  me !  I  thought  it  was  running 
into  temptation,  and  intimated  as  much,  but  he 
said  he  was  going  to  do  penance.  Well,  it  proved 
to  be  a  lovely  penance!  The  sermon  was  so 
beautiful  and  simple,  on  the  words  "  I  know  where 
thou  dwellest."  It  was  about  home — where  we 
dwell.  "Is  it  such,'*  said  the  preacher,  "as  we 
should  wish  Our  Lord  to  visit  .J^"  He  was  an  old 
man,  and  the  sermon  was  like  the  talk  of  a  father 
to  his  children.  It  radiated  love.  Then  came 
the  anthem,  "Love  Divine,"  and  as  the  voice  of 
the  tenor  was  lifted  up  the  boy's  soprano  followed, 
rising  stiU  higher,  tiU  in  one  final  "Love  Divine" 
the  great  arches  of  the  roof  re-echoed  with  the 
melody.  I  confess  that  I  wept,  and  John  said 
softly:  "How  perfect  it  all  was!  I  understand 
now  why  the  townspeople — ^the  nave  was  filled — 
come  to  such  a  service." 

So  we  wended  our  way  back  to  the  hotel,  feel- 
ing that  the  day  had  not  been  altogether  lost. 
[64] 


"AS  IT  WAS  IN  THE  BEGINNING" 

XIII 
«AS  IT  WAS  IN  THE  BEGINNING" 

I  SAID  that  the  day  was  not  altogether  lost, 
but,  alas!  it  was  not  yet  over.  We  were  sitting 
in  the  garden  after  the  cold  supper  always  served 
in  heu  of  dinner  on  Sunday  evenings.  John  was 
smoking  his  pipe  and  all  was  peaceful  when  a 
man  sitting  near  us  suddenly  turned  to  John  and 
said:  "I  saw  you  in  the  cathedral  this  morning, 
but  as  you  left  hurriedly  I  feared  you  might  be 
ill.     I  hope  not." 

Why  can't  John  be  good  all  the  time  .3  Or,  if 
that  is  not  possible,  why  can't  he  tell  a  lie.^ 
Surely  the  latter  would  have  been  better  than  to 
blurt  out:  "No,  thank  you.  I  was  quite  well, 
but  when  I  found  the  talk  was  to  be  about  Jael, 
I  thought  it  best  to  take  my  wife  out.  I  don't 
think  Jael  is  a  proper  person  to  be  spoken  about 
in  the  presence  of  decent  people." 

"God  bless  me!'*  exclaimed  the  other,  "how 
extraordinary!" 

Fortunately,  at  that  moment  the  man  in  charge 
of  the  garage  appeared  with  the  information  that 
he  had  succeeded  in  getting  the  distilled  water 
needed  for  the  batteries,  as  the  chemist's  shop 
was  now  open,  and  John  departed  with  him  to 
see  to  dropping  it  in. 

[65  1 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

There  was  a  long  silence,  and  then  the  stranger 
said:  "Are  you  an  Americ£in?" 

When  I  told  him,  he  said:  "Really,  I  should 
never  have  suspected  it!" 

How  thankful  I  was  that  the  chemist  had  opened 
his  shop  just  when  he  did,  for  that  "compHment" 
— for  such  of  course  it  was  intended  to  be — affects 
John  as  "sheeny"  does  an  Irishman. 

"Of  course,"  continued  my  neighbor,  "I  saw 
at  once  that  your  husband  was  an  American. 
But  how  does  it  happen  that  you  speak  without 
an  accent?" 

I  laughed  and  said:  "Probably  because  I  had 
Kved  until  my  marriage  in  Boston,  and  am  of 
pure  Enghsh  stock,  whereas  my  husband  is  of 
mixed  race,  possibly  having  no  Enghsh  blood  at 
all  in  him." 

"Dear  me!  You  don't  mean  to  say  Indian  or 
negro,  do  you?" 

Thank  goodness  that  distilled  water  has  to  be 
put  in  drop  by  drop,  or  John  would  have  been  in 
the  place  he  said  the  wife  of  Heber  should  be  in ! 
I  explained  that  my  husband's  ancestors  on  one 
side  had  come  from  Ulster,  and  on  the  other 
from  Wales,  so  that  he  did  not  have  quite  the 
same  feeling  about  England  that  I  have,  whose 
people  came  from  Norfolk  and  Devon. 

He  remarked  it  was  a  pity — I  suppose  for  John, 
not  for  me — ^but  I  did  not  inquire.  It  is,  however, 
[66] 


"AS  IT  WAS  IN  THE  BEGINNING" 

a  funny  thing  that  while  the  Enghsh  speak  of 
curiosity  as  an  American  characteristic,  they 
never  seem  to  think  there  is  any  reason  they 
should  not  ask  us  any  questions  which  come  into 
their  heads.  John,  to  whom,  I  need  not  say,  I 
am  indebted  for  this  observation,  says  that  it  is 
because  they  look  on  us  as  freaks !  And  that  just 
as  children  at  the  circus  will  pinch  the  legs  of 
those  unfortunate  creatures  called  freaks — a  thing 
they  would  never  dream  of  doing  to  "humans" — 
so  the  Enghsh  take  Hberties  with  us  which  they 
would  never  take  with  their  own  countrymen. 
But  you  know  how  he  talks  I 

My  new  acquaintance  was  evidently  not  yet 
satisfied,  for  he  continued:  "You  know  that  was 
rather  an  original  remark  of  your  husband's  about 
the  sermon  this  morning." 

I  replied  that  he  was  rather  an  original  per- 
son. 

"But,"  he  said,  "if  you  once  begin  that  sort  of 
thing,  where  will  it  end.*^" 

"What  sort  of  thing .»"  I  asked. 

"Why,  talking  about  those  people  in  the  Bible 
as  if  they  were  real  people  living  to-day,  don't 
you  know." 

"Don't  you  think  of  them  as  real .3" 

"I  don't  think  of  them  at  all." 

"But  when  they  are  spoken  of  in  a  sermon, 
what  do  you  think?" 

[67] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  apt  to  take 
a  little  snooze.  I  have  done  my  part  in  the  ser- 
vice, made  the  responses  and  that  sort  of  thing, 
you  know,  and  when  it  comes  to  the  sermon, 
that's  parson's  job.  He  has  to  do  something, 
and  I  take  it  for  granted  he  knows  his  business 
and  pay  no  attention  to  him.  But  if  I  once 
started  in  to  consider  whether  he  was  right  or 
wrong,  where  should  I  end?  I  know  joUy  well 
that  Sunday  would  be  no  day  of  rest !  Look  at 
your  husband,  now — ^he  is  all  worked  up  over  the 
sermon  this  morning,  but  it  did  me  no  harm.  To 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  think  I  ever  met  a 
man  before  who  cared  what  a  parson  says.  Well, 
perhaps  I  don't  quite  mean  that,  but  what  sur- 
prised me  was  that  he  talked  as  if  he  had  been 
Hstening  to  a  speech  by  Lloyd  George  or  Asquith, 
or  one  of  those  men,  on  a  subject  that  really 
matters." 

"But  you  think  the  clergy  ought  to  talk  on 
things  that  really  matter.^" 

"In  a  way,  yes.  But  not  as  a  regular  thing. 
That  is  the  mistake  the  Non-conformists  make. 
I  have  a  son-in-law  who  goes  to  chapel,  and  at 
Sunday  dinner  the  family  talk  over  the  sermon 
as  if  they  had  been  to  a  political  meeting.  I 
don't  call  that  making  Sunday  a  day  of  rest. 
Why  should  I  want  to  have  a  parson  tell  me  what 
to  think  or  what  to  do.'^  What  does  he  know 
[68] 


"AS  IT  WAS  IN  THE  BEGINNING" 

about  the  life  of  men?  I  expect  I  know  what  I 
ought  to  do  as  well  as  he  does." 
"Why  then  have  a  sermon  at  all?" 
"Well,  it's  the  custom,  and  I  beheve  in  keeping 
up  the  old  customs.  And,  besides,  the  parson 
ought  to  have  something  to  do.  Of  course  in  a 
large  town  where  there  are  working  people,  with 
a  lot  of  drunkenness  and  fighting  and  that  sort  of 
thing,  the  parsons  are  pretty  busy.  As  I  said  to 
my  son-in-law  a  fortnight  ago,  when  he  was  say- 
ing the  Established  Church  ought  to  go,  the 
money  ought  to  be  taken  for  other  purposes,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing  which  the  radicals  are  always 
saying,  well,  I  said  to  him,  'You  don't  look  deep 
enough.  Think  what  the  church  saves  the  coun- 
try every  year  in  police  alone !  The  Established 
Church  is  the  bulwark  of  society,'  I  said,  *and  if 
you  break  that  down,  what  will  take  its  place  .'^ 
The  people  who  need  it  least  will  build  churches 
for  themselves,  and  those  who  need  it  most  will 
have  none.  And,  let  me  tell  you,  when  that  day 
comes,  you  will  soon  learn  whether  you  are  pay- 
ing less  or  more  to  maintain  order.  And  that  is 
not  all,'  I  said,  for  by  this  time  I  was  pretty  hot, 
'the  Established  Church  keeps  alive  the  spirit  of 
the  empire.  But  in  your  chapels  your  ministers 
talk  as  if  there  were  other  countries  as  good  as 
England.  They  are  a  lot  of  radicals  and  have  no 
respect  for  land,  yet  it  is  on  the  land  England 
[69] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

depends,  and  the  church  knows  that  and  never 
offends  the  landlord.'  He  didn't  like  this  over- 
mucli,  and  I  doubt  if  I  go  there  soon  again.  No, 
I  am  all  for  the  church;  what  I  say  is:  'As  it  was 
in  the  beginning,  is  now  and  ever  shall  be,  world 
without  end.  Amen ! ' " 

And  with  that  confession  of; faith  he  knocked 
the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  and  stumped  off  to  bed. 

How  will  it  aU  end.^  Will  the  church  set  its 
face  against  the  rising  tide  of  democracy  and 
make  Canute  its  patron  saint  .^^  I  don't  dare 
ask  John.  I  wish  you  were  here  that  we  might 
talk  things  over !  You  would  be  so  sympathetic, 
for  you  love  England  dearly,  which  I  fear  John 
does  not,  and  therefore,  I  feel,  cannot  understand 
her.  WeU,  I  comfort  myself  by  thinking  what  I 
believe  you  would  say:  "England  has  the  'root 
of  the  matter'  in  her,  and  if  a  great  crisis  were  to 
arise,  EngUshmen  will  show  that  they  are  to-day 
what  they  have  always  been,  and  the  church  will 
follow  the  higher  call.  England  wiU  never  do 
penance  and  sit  in  a  sheet,  in  the  face  of  the  na- 
tions confessing  the  'sins  and  offenses  of  her 
youth,'  but  she  wiU  set  her  house  in  order  and 
meet  the  new  age  with  courage  and  faith  and  hope, 
as  she  has  ever  done,  and  the  'glory  of  the  latter 
house  will  be  greater  than  that  of  the  former'! 
*As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now  and  ever  shall 
be, '  embodies  a  great  truth  which  your  muddle- 
[70] 


RURAL  ENGLAND 


headed  friend  was  trying  to  express.  He  thought, 
and  alas !  he  is  not  alone  in  so  thinking,  that  the 
form  makes  the  stability,  whereas  it  is  the  eternal 
stability  of  the  English  character  in  which  he  be- 
lieves, and  so  do  I." 

So  with  these  comforting  thoughts  I  am  going 
to  bed.  My  Tory  friend  was  right  in  one  respect 
— it  has  not  been  a  restful  day  I 


XIV 
RURAL  ENGLAND 

On  leaving  "Barchester"  we  took  the  road  to 
Gloucester.  I  think  it  safe  to  say  that  it  is  the 
finest  road  for  motoring  in  England,  which  is 
equivalent  to  saying  in  the  world.  The  French 
roads,  I  am  told,  are  in  some  ways  superior,  but 
so  straight  and  hard  and  white  that  travelKng  on 
them  soon  becomes  monotonous.  Then  they  are 
so  artificial,  running  like  the  road  the  Tsar  is  said 
to  have  laid  out  with  a  ruler,  between  Petersburg 
and  Moscow  1  But  the  Enghsh  roads  run  nat- 
urally, with  many  a  turn  from  town  to  town,  just 
as  man  first  found  it  easy  to  walk.  Of  course  we 
now  have  roads  at  home  equal  to  any — ^for  the 
first  year  or  two — ^but  think  how  many  generations 
have  used  these  roads,  and  always,  I  imagine, 
[711 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

kept  them  in  repair.  The  difference  is  like  that 
between  a  granite  bridge  and  one  of  our  new 
concrete  ones.  At  first  there  seems  nothing  to 
choose  between  them;  but  when  the  rain  and 
frost  of  a  few  seasons  have  done  their  work,  the 
one  has  begun  to  look  dingy  and  shabby,  while 
the  other  has  gained  in  dignity. 

Of  course  it  is  not  only  the  surface  of  the  road 
which  makes  motoring  on  it  so  dehghtful;  it  is 
the  continuous  succession  of  lovely  rural  scenes. 
For  example,  we  had  not  gone  many  miles  when 
we  met  a  horseman — an  ancient  groom  we  sup- 
posed— ^riding  along  the  grass  by  the  roadside  and 
followed  by  a  pack  of  hounds,  which  he  was  "walk- 
ing." Ruth  jumped  from  the  car  and  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  take  a  kodak  of  them.  He 
smilingly  called  them  together,  the  older  ones 
looking  up  into  his  face  and  the  pups  still  nosing 
about  the  grass.  The  hght  was  good  and  the 
promise  of  a  satisfactory  picture  excellent. 

The  "groom"  asked  if  he  might  have  a  picture 
when  the  film  had  been  developed,  which  Ruth 
said  she  would  be  dehghted  to  send  if  he  would 
give  her  his  address. 

"Just  address  it,  ma'am,  to  'James  the  Hunts- 
man, The  Kennels,  Rlankshire.' " 

"But  your  last  name?"  she  asked. 

"That  is  my  name,  ma'am,  James  the  Hunts- 
man." 

[72  1 


RURAL  ENGLAND 


So  we  learned  that  not  only  was  he  not  a  groom 
but  that  we  were  not  in  the  twentieth  century  but 
stiU  in  feudal  England,  where  a  man's  occupation 
was  his  designation — the  individual  not  having 
yet  emerged !  That  his  status  should  be  fixed  for 
hfe  was  evidently  as  satisfactory  to  "James  the 
Huntsman"  as,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  was  his 
master's,  whether  knight  or  baronet,  to  him. 

"It  is  like  a  scene  from  'Ivanhoe,'"  said  Ruth, 
when  we  were  again  under  way.  "If  we  were  a 
little  farther  to  the  east,  in  Northamptonshire, 
where  Sherwood  Forest  Ues,  I  have  no  doubt  we 
should  meet  Gurth  the  serf,  or  Robin  Hood !" 

"No,"  said  I,  "the  serfs  are  working  in  factories, 
and  Robin  Hood  is  in  the  'city.'" 

"You  talk  like  WiUiam  Jennings  Bryan," 
mocked  Ruth. 

A  few  miles  farther  on  we  came  to  another 
England.  Again  we  met  a  horseman.  I  said 
this  time  a  "groom,"  but  Ruth  said  she  was  sure 
he  would  call  himself  "chevalier." 

Whoever  he  was  he  looked  noble  enough  to  be 
a  duke.  He  was  riding  a  seal-brown  horse  whose 
coat  shone  like  a  chestnut  in  the  sunlight.  I  no- 
ticed that  the  horse  was  restive,  and  so  shut  off 
the  engine  till  he  should  pass.  The  rider  thanked 
me,  touching  his  cap — so  I  suppose  he  could  not 
have  been  a  duke — and  remarked  that  the  horse 
was  "full  of  beans." 

[73] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

I  said  it  was  a  superb  animal,  and  the  groom, 
leaning  forward  to  pat  his  neck,  for  the  horse 
was  still  nervous,  rephed:  "He  ought  to  be,  sir, 
for  he's  own  brother  to" — I  am  sorry  to  say  I 
have  forgotten  the  name — "wiimer  of  the  Derby." 
So  we  had  met  the  aristocracy,  after  aU ! 

Not  long  after  this  we  met  a  flock  of  sheep. 
Again  we  stopped.  But  we  got  no  thanks  from 
the  surly  shepherd — Ruth  said  because  he  was  so 
tired — ^but  the  panting  dog,  who  ran  from  side 
to  side  on  the  road,  gave  us  a  grateful  glance,  as 
much  as  to  say:  " I  am  glad  you  did  that,  for  had 
you  kept  on,  these  fools  would  have  been  all  over 
the  road,  and  I  should  have  been  beaten." 

But  it  was  not  only  the  passengers  on  the 
"king's  highway"  who  kept  us  entertained — not 
to  say  entranced — ^but  houses  and  gardens  on 
either  side  made  it  hard  to  keep  the  tenth  com- 
mandment 1 

When  I  said  this  to  Ruth,  she  rephed  that  it 
could  hardly  be  my  neighbor's  wife  whom  I  cov- 
eted, which  was  true,  if  cattish,  for  the  ones  we 
saw  were  more  worthy  than  alluring!  The  ox 
and  the  ass  were  not  in  evidence,  but  I  suspect 
Ruth  coveted  the  man  servant,  and  specially  the 
maid  servant,  of  whom  we  caught  glimpses  from 
time  to  time,  flitting  across  the  weU-trimmed 
lawns  or  standing  at  the  servants'  entrance,  gos- 
siping with  the  butcher  or  the  baker  or  the  candle- 
[74] 


RURAL  ENGLAND 


Stick-maker — what  difference  can  it  make  to  a 
young  woman  who  is  forbidden  to  have  "follow- 
ers"? 

It  was  the  houses  which  tempted  me.  There 
was  an  infinite  variety  to  choose  from — Eliza- 
bethan, Tudor,  Jacobean  (I  am  not  sure  I  am 
always  right  about  the  period) — but  I  recognized 
the  real  Queen  Anne.  Here  was  a  "gentleman's 
residence"  and  there  a  tiny  cottage  covered  with 
climbing  roses.  I  noted  scores  of  Elizabethan 
houses  with  chimneys  as  graceful  as  the  smoke 
which  curled  from  them.  Why  cannot  a  modern 
architect  design  a  chimney  which  will  draw  the 
eye  as  well  as  the  smoke .^  And  the  gardens! 
Those  of  the  poor  as  well  as  of  the  rich  were  a 
riot  of  color.  There  were  dogs  and  ponies  and 
"governess-carts,"  and  all  the  things  we  are 
familiar  with  in  the  illustrated  papers.  As  I 
looked  at  aU  these  delectable  things,  it  seemed  to 
me  that  England  was  an  earthly  paradise;  as  old 
Gaunt  says,  "A  second  Eden."  I  grew  melan- 
choly as  I  remembered  the  "L"  and  the  crowded 
subway,  and  the  noise  and  the  dirt  of  our  chief 
city,  the  struggle  for  existence  and  the  prevaiUng 
discontent — every  man  striving  to  surpass  his 
neighbor — ^no  one  content  with  that  station  in 
life  to  which  "it  had  pleased  God  to  call  him." 
How  many  Americans,  I  said  to  myself,  beheve 
God  has  called  them  to  anything?  Here,  I  con- 
[75] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

tinued,  is  peace  and  contentment.  Would  God 
that  I  were  there ! 

Now  Ruth  has  an  imcanny  way  of  knowing  of 
what  one  is  thinking,  so  I  was  not  startled  when 
she  broke  into  my  revery  by  saying: 

"Yes,  it  is  all  beautiful,  but  how  long  could 
you  stand  it  ?  I  do  not  mean  what  you  now  see, 
but  what  you  do  not  see!  How  many  people 
have  taken  off  their  caps  to  us  this  morning 
simply  because  they  believe  us  to  belong  to  the 
'  gentry '  ?  In  that  last  village  through  which  we 
passed,  did  the  children  'bob'  to  us  because  they 
recognized  our  superiority  in  character  or  educa- 
tion ?  You  would  not  have  been  the  vicar  of  that 
lovely  Norman  church  we  passed  five  miles  back 
one  month  before  there  would  have  been  trouble ! 
The  'servility'  of  the  *  lower  classes'  would  so 
have  gotten  on  your  nerves  that  you  would  have 
insulted  some  laborer  for  the  satisfaction  of  hav- 
ing him  answer  you  hke  a  man !  You  would  find 
another  thing,  which  is  that  'kowtowing'  is  not 
confined  to  one  class.  If  the  laborer  'kowtows'  to 
the  vicar,  the  vicar  must  'kowtow'  to  the  lord  of 
the  manor." 

"Why,  Ruth,"  I  cried,  "where  is  Bryan  now.^ 
You  talk  like  the  ladies  on  the  soap-boxes  in 
Union  Square  I" 

"You  forget,"  she  said,  "that  I  am  not  talking 
[76] 


RURAL  ENGLAND 


about  myself.  I  should  adore  to  have  the  school 
children  'bob'  to  me,  and  would  be  quite  wilUng 
in  turn  to  *bob'  to  the  Lady  Emeline  or  to  the 
Dowager  Countess.  But  you!  Really,  John,  I 
sometimes  think  you  know  yourself  less  than  any 
one  I  ever  met ! " 

"It's  lucky  I  have  you  to  show  me  what  I  am 
like,"  I  growled. 

"Indeed  it  is,"  she  cheerfully  rephed.  "I'U 
tell  you  whom  you  are  like  I  you  are  exactly  like 
Crugan!" 

To  show  you  how  absurd  the  comparison  is,  I 
must  tell  you  something  about  Tom  Crugan.  He 
lived  in  our  ward  before  he  made  his  fortune,  and 
was  a  good  fellow — is  still,  so  far  as  I  know !  More 
than  once  he  had  helped  me  when  some  poor 
wretch  had  got  into  trouble  and  needed  a  httle 
"influence."  When  he  got  the  contract  for  a 
section  of  the  subway,  he  made  a  lot  of  money — 
I  hope  honestly !  Then  he  made  a  lucky  invest- 
ment in  real  estate,  which,  curiously  enough,  the 
city  found  it  must  have — at  an  advance  in  price 
— and  then  Tom  and  his  family  made  the  grand 
tour.  Mrs.  Crugan  kept  herself  in  the  back- 
ground, but  the  girls,  who  were  real  Irish  beauties, 
had  a  succes  fou.  One  of  them  married  an  Itahan 
prince,  and  the  other  a  German  count.  Well, 
Tom  stayed  abroad  about  two  years  and  then 
[77]- 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

suddenly  returned.  He  came  down  to  our  part 
of  the  town  soon  after,  to  look  after  some  prop- 
erty he  held  there,  and  I  saw  him. 

"Hello,  Crugan,"  I  said.  "I  am  glad  to  see 
you  back.    Did  you  like  Europe.^" 

"I  did  for  a  while,"  he  rephed,  "but  the  best 
day  of  the  trip  was  when  I  set  foot  in  Hoboken. 
The  carriage  was  there  to  meet  us,  and  when  I 
had  put  my  wife  in,  she  says  to  me:  'Ain't  you 
comin'  too,  Tom.»^' 

"  *  Not  in  a  carriage,  I  ain't,'  says  I.  'And  what 
is  more,  if  that  coachman  touches  his  hat  to  me 
again,  I'm  liable  to  do  him  an  injury!  You  go 
on  up,  mother,  and  I'll  be  there  most  as  soon  as 
you,  anyway.' 

"So  I  got  onto  a  Christopher  Street  ferry,  and 
caught  a  crosstown  and  swimg  onto  a  Fourth 
Avenue  and  went  out  onto  the  front  platform  to 
smoke  a  cigar  and  watch  the  driver  handle  his 
team.  Pretty  soon  a  mail-wagon  got  across  the 
tracks,  and  he  had  to  pull  up  pretty  sharp,  and 
the  handle  of  his  brake  caught  me  in  the  stomach. 
Did  he  throw  a  fit  because  he  had  hit  a  man  who 
was  smoking  a  twenty-five-cent  cigar  .►*  He  did 
not.  He  turns  to  me  and  says:  'Why  the  hell 
can't  you  keep  your  belly  out  of  my  brake  .^*' 
Say,  I  could  have  kissed  that  man  I" 


[78] 


EDUCATION 


XV 
EDUCATION 

One  day  at  Gloucester  and  one  at  Wells  enabled 
us  to  get  only  hasty  impressions  of  each.  The 
west  front  of  the  latter  was  not  so  impressive  as 
the  pictures  of  it  had  led  me  to  expect.  Indeed, 
it  looks  like  a  sort  of  afterthought,  and  might  as 
well  have  been  put  a  hundred  feet  farther  away 
for  all  the  connection  it  has  with  the  cathedral. 
However,  when  I  am  made  an  Enghsh  bishop, 
it  is  WeUs  I  shall  choose  for  the  bishop's  gar- 
den! 

But  Gloucester,  like  Rome,  would  require  a  life- 
time to  exhaust.  The  whole  history  of  western 
ecclesiastical  architecture  is  built  into  its  walls. 
Like  the  Enghsh  constitution,  it  is  neither  an 
evolution  nor  a  revolution.  It  is  a  series  of  new 
things  put  onto  the  old.  Perhaps  for  that  reason 
it  is  so  impressive.  It  is  not  logical,  but  it  works ! 
The  rough  Saxon  stonework  was  not  torn  down 
when  the  more  stately  Norman  was  added  but  left 
standing  to  bear  witness  to  the  past.  And  so  the 
various  styles  of  Gothic,  from  the  early  pointed 
to  the  highly  decorative,  have  in  turn  been  added, 
and  the  result  is  a  structure  in  some  ways  the 
most  impressive  in  England  and  perfectly  rep- 
[79] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

resentative  of  the  English  people.     I  thought  of 
"The  Chambered  NautOus": 

"Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  soul, 
As  the  swift  seasons  roll: 
Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last. 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast — • 
Till  thou  at  length  art  free. 
Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell  by  life's  unresting  sea." 

From  Wells  we  returned  to  Bath,  crossing  the 
Mendips,  or  are  they  the  Cotswolds.*^  On  the 
steep  ascent  we  passed  two  bicyclists,  a  parson 
and  a  very  pretty  girl,  evidently  his  daughter.  I 
wished  we  had  two  vacant  seats  to  offer  them,  for 
it  is  a  stiff  climb.  We  did  offer  the  one  we  had 
to  the  pretty  girl,  but  though  she  looked  tired,  she 
was  a  good  sport,  and  dechned  to  leave  her  father 
to  toil  up  the  hill  alone.  I  hope  he  was  grateful, 
but  Englishmen  have  a  way  of  accepting  sacrifices 
from  their  womenfolk  which  we  do  not  under- 
stand. At  any  rate,  it  was  pleasant  to  see  the 
companionship  between  the  two. 

We  spent  the  night  at  Bath  in  a  pretentious  and 
uncomfortable  hotel,  and  moralized  on  Beau 
Brummel  and  his  preposterous  patron.  I  can 
never  forgive  Sir  Walter  Scott  for  his  laudation 
of  the  Prince  Regent,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
Thackeray's  picture  is  as  relentless  as  a  portrait 
by  Sargent. 

[80] 


EDUCATION 


From  Bath  we  passed  over  to  Winchester, 
taking  in  a  corner  of  the  New  Forest  en  route. 

After  we  had  seen  the  great  cathedral  and  col- 
lege at  Winchester,  we  walked  to  St.  Cross,  which 
is  a  home  for  old  men.  I  have  forgotten  how  old 
it  is,  but  the  custom  of  receiving  pilgrims  remains 
unchanged  through  all  the  many  years.  Each 
"pilgrim"  is  given  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  mug  of 
ale  at  the  porter's  lodge.  We  pilgrims  were  not 
hungry  enough  to  enjoy  either. 

I  had  a  letter  to  the  head  master,  who,  unfor- 
tunately, was  away,  but  one  of  the  house  masters 
received  us  kindly  and  showed  us  about. 

Of  course  the  talk  turned  on  education  and  the 
relative  merits  of  English  and  American  schools. 
Our  guide  had  never  been  in  America,  but  if  you 
think  that  prevented  him  from  having  definite 
views  on  American  methods  of  education,  you  do 
not  know  the  English !  He  was  incHned  to  admit 
that  what  he  called  our  "board  schools"  were, 
perhaps,  in  some  respects  better  than  the  English, 
but  when  it  came  to  the  question  of  "pubHc" 
schools — such  as  the  Philh'ps  Academies  at  Exeter 
and  Andover,  or  St.  Paul's  or  Groton,  he  found 
it  difficult  to  speak  what  he  beheved  to  be  the 
truth  and  at  the  same  time  be  pohte.  So  he  con- 
tented himself  with  saying  that  the  Enghsh 
standard  is  much  higher;  which,  I  fear,  cannot  be 
denied.  I  asked  him  what  boys  of  fifteen  were 
[81  1 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

reading  in  Latin,  and  when  he  repKed,  "Caesar 
and  the  first  books  of  Virgil,"  I  said  it  would  be 
the  same  with  us.  But  when  he  explained  that 
by  "reading"  he  did  not  mean  merely  trans- 
lation into  Enghsh,  but  also  retranslation  into 
Latin  in  the  style  of  the  author,  and  added  that 
boys  must  be  able  to  write  good  Latin  prose  of 
their  own  composition,  I  gave  up ! 

I  asked  him  how  he  accounted  for  the  fact  that 
the  standard  was  higher  with  them  than  with 
us.  He  said  because  English  boys  studied  harder 
and  longer  hours  than  our  boys  do.  He  thought 
the  three  months'  hohday  fatal  to  continuous 
progress.  "Then,"  he  added,  "your  boys  go  to 
school  too  late.  Enghsh  boys  are  sent  to  a  pre- 
paratory school  at  nine — often  at  eight — ^years  of 
age,  so  they  acouire  habits  of  study  before  yours 
begin." 

Much  of  this  is  no  doubt  true,  but  there  are 
some  things  he  does  not  know  and  which,  mirabile 
didu,  I  did  not  tell  him  I  Do  you  ask  "why"? 
Well,  to  teU  you  the  truth,  I  did  begin,  but  soon 
found  he  was  one  of  those  Englishmen  who,  having 
made  up  his  mind,  does  not  care  to  listen  to  new 
evidence.  Moreover,  the  schoolmaster  the  world 
over  is  in  the  habit  of  teachiag  and  does  not  care 
to  be  taught — certainly  not  by  one  not  of  the 
guild.  No  doubt  you  will  say  to  yourself  that 
this  is  not  a  pecuharity  of  the  schoolmaster  but 
[82] 


EDUCATION 


is  true  of  the  clergy  as  well.  However,  in  this 
case  there  were  some  things  not  taken  into  ac- 
count. For  instance,  the  hohdays  may  be  too 
long,  but  in  our  chmate  the  boy  who  was  kept  at 
work  till  the  1st  of  August  would  not  learn 
much  more  than  he  does  now.  Moreover,  I  ques- 
tion if  the  American  boy,  with  his  nervous  tem- 
perament, is  capable  of  the  long  hours  of  applica- 
tion which  the  more  stoKd  Enghsh  lad  bears  with 
ease.  Whether  it  is  an  advantage,  from  the 
standpoint  of  scholarship,  for  a  boy  who  has  just 
emerged  from  infancy  to  be  sent  from  home,  I 
do  not  know.  But  the  reason  it  can  be  done  in 
England  and  could  not  be  done  in  America — 
except  in  the  case  of  those  poor  little  unfortunates 
whose  mothers  and  fathers  have  been  divorced — 
is  that  in  England  the  decision  lies  with  the 
father,  whereas  with  us  it  is  the  mother  who  has 
the  final  word.  That  it  is  desirable  to  send  a 
child  from  home  before  there  has  been  time  to 
instil  lasting  principles,  I  fancy  few  American 
mothers  would  admit.  Will  English  mothers 
when  they  have  gained  the  independence  of  their 
transatlantic  sisters  continue  the  custom  .►^  Who 
can  say  P 

I  admit  that  all  this  sounds  like  what  the 

lawyers  call  "confession  and  avoidance,"  but  I 

beheve  there  is  a  reason  for  the  higher  standard 

in  England  which   perhaps  our  guide  did  not 

[83] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

know,  or  was  too  polite  to  mention,  but  which, 
were  it  recognized,  would  lift  our  standard  with- 
out resorting  to  the  remedies  he  suggested.  I 
suspect  the  real  difficulty  is  that  we  have  no  such 
large  body  of  well-trained  university  men  to  draw 
upon  for  teachers  as  England  has.  We  find  it 
difficult  with  so  many  attractive  and  lucrative 
careers  open  to  young  men  to  find  many  who  are 
willing  to  make  teaching  a  life-work,  and  therefore 
must  do  the  best  we  can  with  the  material  we 
have.  In  other  words,  before  we  change  our 
system  would  it  not  be  well  for  us  to  make  the 
profession  of  teaching  as  attractive  with  us  as  it 
is  iQ  England  .^^  What  college  president  with  us 
has  such  a  position  of  influence,  such  a  house  and 
salary,  as  has  the  head  master  of  Winchester, 
Eton,  or  Harrow? 

You  will  be  inchned  to  say  as  Prof.  Corson  did 
when  I  asked  him,  when  I  was  a  freshman,  what 
subject  he  would  suggest  for  a  "composition." 
"Any  except  'Education'!" 


[84  1 


A  BY-ELECTION 


XVI 

A  BY-ELECTION 

From  Winchester  we  motored  to  SaKsbury. 
The  spire  of  the  cathedral  is  perhaps  the  most 
beautiful  in  the  world,  but  the  cathedral  as  a 
whole  did  not  impress  me  as  much  as  I  had  ex- 
pected. Perhaps  I  was  still  under  the  influence 
of  Gloucester,  or  more  likely  of  the  regal  shrine 
at  Winchester.  At  any  rate,  when  I  learned  that 
it  had  been  built  by  one  man,  I  lost  interest.  I 
am  too  famihar  with  that  sort  of  work!  The 
charm  of  most  of  the  EngUsh  cathedrals  is  due  to 
the  fact  that  of  most  of  them  it  is  true  that 

"Like  some  tall  palm 
The  stately  fabric  grew." 

Salisbury  did  not  grow;  it  was  built!  It  has 
an  air  of  artificiaUty  about  it  that  not  even  the 
beautiful  spire,  which  is  a  later  addition,  can 
atone  for. 

It  is  fair  to  say  that  Ruth  did  not  agree  with 
me.  To  her  it  seemed  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
of  all  we  had  seen.  Indeed,  she  said  the  reason 
I  did  not  appreciate  it  was  because  I  was  influ- 
enced by  "Martin  Chuzzlewit"!  That  was  be- 
cause I  had  asked  her  from  which  angle  she  sup- 
[85] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

posed  Mr.  Pecksniff  had  first  drawn  it.  At  any 
rate,  we  had  to  agree  to  differ. 

As  we  got  into  the  car  at  the  gate  of  the  close 
a  gentleman  who  had  been  looking  it  over  asked 
whither  we  were  bound.  When  I  told  him  across 
the  Plain,  he  strongly  advised  me  to  avoid  the 
highway,  which,  he  said,  was  quite  uninteresting, 
and  to  take  a  road  which,  by  many  a  turning, 
would  show  the  Plain  as  the  highway  could  not 
do.  I  do  not  know  that  man's  name,  and  I  do 
not  wish  to  meet  him  again !  He  probably  is  one 
of  those  men  who  take  pleasure  in  walking — a 
form  of  exercise  which  I  detest !  He  certainly  has 
never  driven  a  car.  Had  he  done  so  he  would 
know  that  there  is  nothing  so  distressing  to  a 
motorist  as  a  "picturesque "  road  I  We  descended 
into  little  guUies  and  mounted  Httle  hillocks  till 
my  back  was  nearly  broken  with  changing  gears, 
and  the  car  looked  as  if  I  had  bought  it  second- 
hand and  used  it  hard ! 

We  stopped  long  enough  at  Stonehenge  to  get 
an  impression  of  its  dreariness,  and  then  pushed 
on  to  a  village  on  the  north  side  of  the  Plain.  We 
reached  there  late  for  lunch,  and  learned  that  the 
name  of  the  place  was  Divises,  and  that  a  by- 
election  for  member  of  parhament  was  in  prog- 
ress. 

The  inn  was  crowded  to  suffocation,  and  some 
of  the  loungers  had  had  as  much  to  drink  as  was 
[86] 


A  BY-ELECTION 


good  for  them,  and  some  a  little  more.  I  was  in 
no  amiable  frame  of  mind,  as  you  may  imagine. 
No  one  would  pay  any  attention  to  us — ^they  were 
too  busy  serving  drink. 

I  learned  that  the  question  at  issue  was  what 
we  call  the  "saloon."  A  Labor  member  was 
standing  on  a  platform  which  called  for  the 
regulation  of  the  public  house,  while  the  Con- 
servative candidate  was  for  "free  rum."  One 
would  have  thought  that  here  was  an  issue  which 
would  divide  the  sheep  from  the  goats.  But  there 
were  other  questions  involved — ^land,  for  instance, 
and  the  Estabhshed  Church. 

Alas!  I  soon  found  that  the  shepherd  had 
taken  the  side  of  the  goats !  While  I  waited  in 
vain  for  something  to  eat  I  heard  a  great  shout, 
and  going  to  the  door  saw  the  parson,  driven  by 
his  httle  girl — ^her  fair  hair  blowing  in  the  wind — 
the  pony  decked  out  with  blue  ribbons  and  the 
whip,  carried  at  a  knowing  angle,  adorned  with  a 
bow  of  the  same  color.  I  am  glad  to  say  the  child 
was  left  outside,  but  the  burly  parson,  looking 
more  like  a  farmer  than  Herbert's  "Priest  of  the 
Temple" — as  probably  he  was — elbowed  his  way 
through  the  crowd  and  called  for  a  drink;  then, 
amid  the  shout  of  the  half-drunken  crowd,  gave 
"The  King  and  the  Church." 

Ruth,  who  had  been  pale  enough  before,  now 
flushed  so  red  that  I  was  afraid  she  would  "start 
[87] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

some  tiling,"  and  nudged  her  to  keep  quiet.  Then 
I  thought  she  was  going  to  burst  into  tears.  At 
that  moment  a  charming  young  fellow  came  into 
the  room  and  said  to  her:  "I  beg  your  pardon, 
but  this  is  no  place  for  you.  My  mother  has  a 
sitting-room,  and  I  am  sure  would  be  glad  if  you 
would  join  her." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  but  I  said:  "I  am 
deeply  obliged  to  you,  and  if  you  could  get  my 
wife  out  of  this  I  should  be  very  grateful." 

So  she  followed  him,  and  when  later  I  joined 
them  I  found  that  the  lady  of  the  private  room 
had  given  her  a  cup  of  tea  and  made  her  as  com- 
fortable as  was  possible  in  such  a  place. 

When  she  learned  we  were  Americans  she  said 
she  was  mortified  that  we  should  have  seen  such 
a  sight — she  too  had  seen,  from  her  window,  the 
parson's  entrance.  "I  suppose,  however,"  she 
continued,  "such  things  are  seen  in  every  country 
at  election  time." 

I  said  we  had  "toughs"  who  made  trouble,  but 
that  any  minister  who  behaved  as  the  vicar  or 
rector  of  this  parish  had  done  would  be  "ridden  on 
a  rail."  I  don't  think  she  "got"  that.  I  added 
that  I  thought  that  our  laws  which  forbid  the 
sale  of  hquor  while  the  polls  are  open  acted  as  a 
preventive  of  trouble. 

"Ah,"  she  said,  "that  is  what  Mr.  Bowles"— 
the  Labor  member — "is  trying  to  have  enacted. 
[  88] 


SHEEP-DOGS 


But,  you  see,  the  vested  interests  are  strong,  and 
then  he  is  so  radical!" 

You  may  be  sure  we  did  not  tarry  long  in  that 
place,  but  took  our  way  back  to  Bath,  where  we 
had  planned  to  spend  another  night. 

Whether  the  sheep  or  the  goats  won  the  elec- 
tion I  am  unable  to  tell  you.  I  am  rather  in- 
clined to  think  it  was  the  goats.  The  church  and 
the  pubKc  house  make  a  strong  alUance ! 


XVII 

SHEEP-DOGS 

Every  one  told  us  that  we  made  a  mistake  in 
beginning  our  trip  through  the  vaUey  of  the  Wye 
at  Ross.  I  think  they  were  right.  It  is  like 
doing  the  Hudson  from  Albany  to  New  York, 
instead  of  taking  the  Pahsades  first,  then  West 
Point,  and  the  Catskills  last.  However,  it  was 
more  convenient  to  work  north  than  to  go  up  to 
Hereford,  then  down  the  valley,  and  again  come 
back  to  our  starting-place.  At  any  rate,  we  did 
begin  at  Ross ! 

Of  course  our  first  excursion  was  to  Tintern 

Abbey.    What  a  gem  it  must  have  been  in  its 

glory !     And  I  am  thankful  there  has  been  no 

attempt  to  restore  it.     At  the  same  time  I  think 

[89] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

it  a  pity  that  the  grounds  should  be  so  neglected. 
It  is  like  neglecting  the  grave  of  one  we  love.  So 
it  was  with  a  sad  heart  that  we  turned  away  and 
drove  to  a  spot,  "a  few  miles  above  Tintern 
Abbey,"  where  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago 
the  immortal  poem  was  written.  I  read  it  aloud, 
and  we  tried  to  breathe  the  atmosphere  and  feel 
"Beside  these  steep  and  lofty  chffs"  what  Words- 
worth felt  as  he  "heard  these  waters,  rolling  from 
their  mountain  springs  with  a  sweet  inland  mur- 
mur," It  is  indeed  a  "wild  and  secluded  scene 
impressing  thoughts  of  more  deep  seclusion." 

But  these  poetic  thoughts  were  not  destined  to 
last  long,  for,  Ruth  remarking  that  it  was  getting 
damp,  we  started  up  the  engine  and  drove  along 
the  road  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  looking  for  a 
place  for  tea. 

This  we  soon  found,  but  as  there  was  no  ga- 
rage, I  drew  up  on  the  grass  opposite  the  inn,  where 
I  thought  the  car  would  be  out  of  the  way  and 
quite  safe.  A  farmer,  coming  from  the  opposite 
direction,  had  evidently  had  a  like  thought,  and 
had  left  his  cart  on  the  same  side  of  the  road. 
The  horse  had  been  taken  out  and  the  shafts 
tilted  up  at  an  angle  which  brought  the  ends  of 
them  directly  opposite  the  radiator  of  the  car.  I 
put  on  the  brake  and  out  we  got.  I  was  sur- 
prised to  see  the  motor  move  forward  a  few  inches. 
The  long  grass  had  deceived  me,  for  the  ground, 
[90] 


SHEEP-DOGS 


instead  of  being  level,  as  I  had  supposed,  sloped 
gently,  and  the  brake  had  not  been  pulled  back 
far  enough  to  hold  it  in  place.  Those  few  inches 
did  the  business.  The  sharp,  iron-shod  end  of 
one  of  the  shafts  pricked  the  radiator  as  neatly 
as  a  lancet  opens  an  abscess,  and  the  water  gushed 
out! 

This  was  indeed  an  accident.  We  were  miles 
from  a  garage  and  I  had  not  the  least  idea  what 
to  do.  An  old  farmer,  standing  by,  summed  up 
the  situation  in  a  word  when,  turning  to  Ruth, 
he  said:  "It's  like  'avin'  your  horse  took  with  the 
gripes!"  Fortunately,  at  that  moment  a  kindly 
disposed  cyclist  came  along,  and  with,  I  suppose, 
the  same  complacent  satisfaction  that  the  owner 
of  a  Ford  car  has  in  dragging  a  Pierce  Arrow  out 
of  a  ditch,  unpacked  his  repair  kit  and  plugged 
the  radiator  with  some  preparation  for  mending 
tires. 

We  were  duly  grateful,  for  it  enabled  us  to  go 
on  our  way,  though  we  leaked  like  a  watering- 
cart,  and  I  should  not  like  to  say  how  many 
times  the  radiator  was  filled  I 

At  last  we  came  to  a  garage  where  I  thought  we 
should  find  relief.  I  do  not  remember  what  kind 
of  a  radiator  ours  is,  but  you  may  be  sure  the 
proprietor  pointed  out  that  it  was  the  wrong  kind, 
being  almost  impossible  to  mend,  whereas  if  we 
had  the  kind  which  he  had  in  stock  it  would  have 
[91] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

been  a  simple  matter !  I  suppose  every  trade  has 
certain  stock  phrases,  such  as  the  doctor's  "Had  I 
been  called  earUer."  However,  there  was  nothing 
to  be  done  but  to  leave  the  car  with  the  man  who 
said  he  would  do  what  he  could. 

We  returned  to  the  hotel  on  foot  and  not  at  all 
in  a  Wordsworthian  frame  of  mind.  The  worst 
of  it  was  that  I  had  no  one  to  blame  but  myself ! 
I  got  what  comfort  I  could  out  of  the  reflection 
that  the  insurance  company  would  have  to  pay. 
But,  as  the  Irishman  said,  the  worst  of  that  is 
"you've  got  to  lose  to  gain!" 

The  next  day  while  we  were  waiting  for  the 
report  from  the  garage  the  porter  took  pity  on 
us  and  suggested  that  we  might  like  to  see  a  trial 
of  sheep-dogs,  which  was  to  take  place  at  a  farm 
near  by.  It  did  not  sound  exciting,  but  faute  de 
mieux  we  decided  to  go. 

Why  does  not  some  one  revise  the  bromidic 
formula,  and  instead  of  saying  "How  small  the 
world  is ! "  say  "  How  small  we  are ! "  For  indeed 
our  hves  are  very  restricted.  How  Kttle  we  know 
of  the  interests  of  others !  The  trial  of  the  sheep- 
dogs brought  this  home  to  me. 

Gentlemen  and  farmers  had  driven  in  from 
miles  around  to  see  this  match,  which,  I  was 
told,  is  an  annual  event.  I  am  not  sure  I  can 
describe  the  scene,  but  I  will  try. 

There  was  a  pasture  of  about  twenty  acres  in 
[92] 


SHEEP-DOGS 


extent,  in  which  a  flock  of  sheep  were  feeding. 
At  a  given  signal  a  young  man — evidently  a 
farmer — stepped  forth  with  his  dog,  to  which  he 
spoke  almost  in  a  whisper.  In  a  twinkling  the 
beautiful  and  intelligent  creature  leaped  forth, 
hke  an  arrow  from  a  bow,  and  began  to  gather  the 
sheep  into  a  compact  mass.  This  he  did  without 
alarming  them,  so  that  they  moved  slowly  to- 
gether, while  still  cropping  the  grass.  At  the  far 
end  of  the  field  there  was  a  fold,  toward  which  they 
slowly  but  surely  moved.  No  sooner,  however, 
did  they  discover  what  was  before  them  than  they 
began  to  scatter,  like  young  children  summoned 
to  bed  before  the  accustomed  hour !  It  was  then 
the  dog  showed  his  training.  His  master  blew  on 
a  whistle  and  he  scampered  to  the  right,  another 
whistle  and  he  flashed  to  the  left.  Now  the  sheep 
were  again  moving  toward  the  fold,  but  they  had 
begun  to  run  and  were  bleating  piteously.  Evi- 
dently this  was  not  good  "form,"  for  there  was  a 
sharp  whistle  and  the  dog  dropped  to  the  ground, 
lay  motionless  for  a  moment,  and  then  crept 
slowly  forward  when  the  panic  had  subsided. 
Now  came  the  critical  moment.  The  fold  was 
built  with  an  opening  to  the  south,  but  when  that 
should  have  been  passed  there  was  another  opening 
to  the  left  which  led  into  an  enclosure  large  enough 
to  hold  the  flock.  I  should  have  been  satisfied 
when  the  dog  had  succeeded  in  getting  the  sheep 
[93] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

into  that,  but  not  so  the  judges.  Both  dog  and 
sheep  were  given  a  moment's  rest  and  then  a  new 
signal  was  given,  as  much  as  to  say:  "Now,  mind 
your  eye!"  At  the  far  end  of  the  enclosure  was 
a  narrow  opening  through  which  the  sheep  must 
pass  in  Indian  file.  Into  the  pen  then  the  dog 
leaped  and  nosed  the  bell-wether  toward  the  nar- 
row passage.  When  that  had  been  done,  the  others 
followed  meekly  and  found  themselves  in  another 
enclosure,  out  of  which  they  were,  in  due  time, 
led  through  the  same  gateway  by  which  they  had 
first  entered,  and  found  themselves  once  more  in 
the  pasture  from  which  they  had  been  gathered. 
Then  the  dog  came  bounding  back  to  his  master, 
and  crouching  at  his  feet  looked  up  into  his  face, 
as  much  as  to  say:  "Was  it  well  done.^"  There 
was  a  loud  burst  of  applause,  and  the  farmer 
stooped  down  and  stroked  the  dog's  head  as  if 
he  were  saying,  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant,"  and  the  expression  in  the  creature's 
eyes  showed  that  he  had  entered  into  the  "joy  of 
his  lord." 

I  did  not  care  to  see  more,  but  it  might  have 
seemed  discourteous  to  withdraw  before  the 
match  was  ended,  though  later  I  wished  I  had. 

The  second  dog  was  young  and  evidently  ill 

trained,  and  as  his  master  was  foohsh,  the  result 

was  what  might  have  been  expected.    The  dog 

ran  wild,  the  sheep  scattered,  and  the  master 

[94] 


BRIGANDS  AND  BOOTBLACKS 


swore.  The  spectators  stood  in  silence,  but  it  was 
a  painful  scene.  I  think  one  trouble  was  that 
the  man  had  been  drinking.  He  was  a  "gentle- 
man," but  the  young  farmer  had  the  good- will  of 
all.  The  English  are  democratic  in  sport,  and 
all  were  glad  when  he  was  given  the  prize. 

As  we  passed  the  master  of  the  winning  dog  I 
said  how  wonderful  I  thought  it  all  was,  and  the 
dog  slapped  the  ground  with  his  tail  as  if  he  under- 
stood. 

Ruth  teasingly  said  to  me:  "I  suppose  now 
you  wish  you  were  a  feu^mer!" 

"No,"  I  said,  "but  I  wish  I  owned  that  dog," 
and  thought  of  Rex. 


XVIII 
BRIGANDS  AND  BOOTBLACKS 

The  car  was  not  ready  for  us  the  next  day. 
Indeed,  I  found  that  the  garage  was  not  able  to 
do  anything  with  it,  and  so  telegraphed  to  Lon- 
don to  have  a  new  radiator  sent  down  C.  0.  D. 
It  was  then  I  was  thankful  that  I  had  an  Ameri- 
can, L  e.,  a  standardized  car  I 

I  thought  it  would  be  well  to  take  advantage 

of  the  delay  to  make  a  Kttle  journey  by  rail  to  a 

town  near  by — that  is,  near  as  the  crow  flies — to 

pay  a  visit  to  the  parents  of  a  lad  in  the  parish 

[95] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

at  home.  I  thought  they  might  hke  to  hear  news 
of  him,  and  I  knew  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to 
learn  that  I  had  seen  his  people,  of  whom  he  had 
often  spoken. 

The  trains,  however,  do  not  follow  the  track 
of  the  crow,  and  I  found  that  what  looked  like  a 
short  journey  necessitated  two  changes  and  rather 
long  waits  at  each  junction.  I  was  reminded  of  a 
bright  saying  of  Mrs.  Freeman  Allen.  When  her 
husband  was  the  rector  of  the  parish  at  Amherst 
some  one  asked  her  how  long  she  had  been  there. 
She  answered:  "Seven  years."  But  her  husband 
said:  "No,  dear,  you  are  mistaken,  only  fives 
years."  To  which  she  replied:  "You  forget,  dear, 
the  time  spent  at  Palmer!" 

I  reached  my  destination  at  about  noon. 
Captain  Burchell,  the  father  of  my  young  friend, 
is  a  retired  naval  officer,  and  proved  to  be  one  of 
the  most  silent  men  I  had  ever  met.  After  he 
had  examined  my  credentials  he  called  his  wife, 
and,  having  invited  me  to  stay  to  lunch,  evidently 
felt  he  had  done  his  duty — and  what  more  does 
England  expect  from  any  sailor!  Nevertheless, 
no  one  could  look  at  that  strong  face  without  see- 
ing that  he  was  one  of  that  fine  body  of  men  who 
have  kept  ahve  the  spirit  of  the  English  navy 
during  the  long  years  of  "inglorious"  peace,  so 
that  if  war  ever  does  come,  it  will  be  ready. 

The  wife  made  up  for  the  taciturnity  of  the 
[96] 


BRIGANDS  AND  BOOTBLACKS 


husband — perhaps  was  the  cause  of  it !  She  was 
keenly  interested  in  hearing  about  her  boy,  as,  no 
doubt,  the  father  was  too,  only  she  said  so,  and 
he  did  not !  It  was  years  since  they  had  seen  him, 
and  probably  had  given  up  hope  of  ever  seeing 
him  again,  and  were  reconciled. 

I  suggested  that  as  it  was  now  an  easy  thing 
to  make  the  journey,  she  might  be  induced  to  go 
out  to  him.  But  at  this  she  cried  out.  How 
strange  it  is  that  the  English,  who  are  the  masters 
of  the  sea,  have  such  a  dread  of  it !  Perhaps  it  is 
because  they  have  lost  so  many  at  sea,  but  what- 
ever may  be  the  reason,  it  is  a  fact  that  the  aver- 
age Englishwoman — and  the  same  is  almost  as 
true  of  men — seems  to  think  that  a  trip  to  New 
York  is  as  dreadful  as  the  voyage  of  Columbus. 

But  I  soon  found  that  there  were  other  reasons 
besides  the  "perils  of  the  great  deep"  that 
alarmed  the  gentle  lady. 

"I  should  be  afraid  of  brigands,"  she  said. 

I  laughed  and  said  I  did  not  think  there  was 
much  danger  from  them. 

"But,  indeed,  there  must  be.  I  frequently  see 
in  the  Times  accounts  of  armed  men  entering  into 
the  railway  carriages  and  robbing  the  passengers." 

I  had  to  admit  such  things  did  occur,  but  as 

they  happen  in  the  Far  West,  and  her  boy  now 

lives  in  New  Rochelle,  the  danger  did  not  seem 

imminent.    But  as  the  good  lady  did  not  seem  to 

[97] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

know  whether  New  Rochelle  is  a  suburb  of  New 
York  or  of  Omaha,  I  gave  it  up. 

Indeed,  I  soon  learned  that  there  were  spiritual 
enemies  to  be  feared  more  dreadful  than  those  of 
flesh  and  blood. 

She  suddenly  said:  "You  have  a  great  many 
dissenters  in  the  'States,'  have  you  not.^" 

"Oh,  no,"  I  said.    "We  have  none." 

"You  surprise  me.  Roy  [her  son]  has  written 
me  that  there  seem  to  be  more  of  them  than  of 
church  people,  and  that  their  chapels  are  often 
more  beautiful  than  the  churches.  I  was  also 
sorry  to  hear  that  he  had  gone  with  a  young  lady 
to  one  of  their  places  of  worship,  'The  Fifteenth 
Avenue  Church,'  I  think  he  called  it." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "I  see,  you  mean  non-Episco- 
pahans.  Yes,  there  are  millions  of  those.  But, 
as  we  have  no  estabhshed  church,  of  course  there 
can  be  no  dissenters." 

I  confess  I  thought  this  rather  neat.  But  she 
solemnly  answered: 

"They  are  dissenters  from  the  church  of 
Christ!" 

Fortunately,  at  that  moment  the  daughter  came 
in  from  tennis,  and  I  hoped  that  by  giving  a  more 
worldly  turn  to  the  conversation  I  might  fare 
better,  so  said: 

"I  have  been  trying  to  induce  your  mother  to 
pay  your  brother  a  visit,  but  she  does  not  seem 
[98] 


BRIGANDS  AND  BOOTBLACKS 


to  like  the  idea.    Perhaps  you  might  enjoy  it 
more." 

"Indeed  I  should  not,"  she  cried.  "I  hear  the 
hotels  are  dreadful." 

I  thought  of  London!  but  meekly  replied 
that  I  did  not  think  she  would  find  them  un- 
bearable. 

"I  am  sure  I  should.  A  friend  of  mine — Bessie 
Salter,  you  know,  Mumsie — went  over  to  the 
'States'  a  year  ago,  and  told  me,  when  she  re- 
turned, that  if  one  wished  to  have  one's  boots 
blacked,  one  must  go  down  into  the  cellar  and 
cock  one's  feet  up  on  two  iron  pegs,  and  have 
them  brushed  by  a  grinning  'nigger.'" 

I  now  gave  up  "for  keeps,"  and  wondered  why 
I  had  come!  However,  I  consoled  myself  with 
the  thought  that  it  was  part  of  one's  education. 
I  felt  that  I  had  got  to  the  heart  of  the  great 
middle  class  of  England.  It  is  religious,  kindly, 
and  self-satisfied  to  a  degree  imequalled  in  the 
world. 

I  was  rather  depressed  that  evening  as  I  gave 
an  account  of  my  day  to  Ruth.  But  she  laughed 
till  the  tears  came. 

"If  only  I  had  been  there  to  see  your  face! 
Why,  it  is  perfect.  If  one  read  it  in  a  book  one 
would  think  the  writer  was  trying  to  parody 
Dickens  on  America.  Honestly,  did  it  really 
happen,  or  have  you  embroidered  it.^" 
[99] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"I  give  you  my  word,  it  is  the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth!" 

"Well,  I  hope  it  will  be  blest  to  you!  A  hun- 
dred years  and  more  of  independence,  and  the 
dear  old  things  think  of  us  as  an  unworthy  'col- 
ony,' with  dissenters  and  brigands  and  boot- 
blacks !  My  dear,  I  hope  I  may  never  hear  you 
brag  of  that  unhappy  country  again !  And  now 
come  down  and  get  some  dinner.  They  are  going 
to  have  cherry  tart  and  custard — ^for  a  change!" 


XIX 

,THE  PISTON-ROD 

To-day  we  have  enjoyed  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  rides  in  the  world.  I  do  not  mean 
grand,  like  the  Corniche,  but  lovely,  because 
man  has  beautified  what  the  hand  of  God  had 
made.  The  valley  of  the  Wye  would  have  been 
charming  had  man  never  cultivated  it,  but  now 
it  blossoms  like  the  rose.  We  were  tempted 
to  turn  off  from  the  main  road  that  we  might 
get  a  better  view  of  the  lovely  gardens  and 
charming  houses  all  along  the  way.  I  believe  it 
is  disputed  whether  Kent  or  Shropshire  is  the 
more  beautiful  county;  but  I  cast  my  vote  for 
Shropshire.  I  reckon  Ruth  picked  out  a  score 
[  100] 


THE  PISTON-ROD 


of  houses  in  which  she  said,  had  she  them,  hfe 
would  be  full  of  joy. 

"Do  you  wonder,"  she  said,  "that  Englishmen 
in  exile — in  India,  China,  Canada,  South  Africa, 
and  even  America — turn  back  with  longing  to  such 
homes  as  these?  Surely  nothing  like  it  is  to  be 
found  on  earth !  But  it  makes  me  sad  to  think 
how  many  of  these  happy  girls  playing  in  these 
gardens  must  go  out  to  the  colonies,  and  how 
many  of  those  dear  little  boys  may  be  killed  in 
some  obscure  and  unnecessary  war !  Our  people 
have  been  pilgrims  from  the  beginning,  but  what 
New  Englander  going  to  the  West,  or  what  Vir- 
ginian crossing  the  Alleghanies,  or  farmers  trekking 
from  Iowa  to  Northwest  Canada  have  left  any- 
thing like  this?  No  wonder  'Home-week'  is 
enough  for  us !  But  the  English  carry  with  them 
the  smell  of  the  newly  turned  earth  to  the  deso- 
late, sun-baked  plains  of  India,  and  the  scent  of 
the  roses  to  the  snows  of  Hudson's  Bay.  And 
yet,  with  all  their  deep  sentiment  for  home,  they 
do  not  die  of  nostalgia  as  do  the  French  when 
they  are  taken  away  from  the  asphalt  and  the 
theatre!    What  a  people  they  are ! " 

After  this  rhapsody  there  was  silence  for  a 
httle  space,  and  then  Ruth  came  back  to  earth 
with  the  remark:  "How  fortunate  it  is  that  we 
have  never  had  trouble  with  our  tires  I  I  feared 
we  might  be  changing  them  all  the  time." 
[  101] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

I  sapiently  remarked:  "Well,  you  see  we  have 
not  gone  far  enough  yet.  These  tires  are  guar- 
anteed for  five  thousand  miles." 

She  pondered  this  for  a  moment,  and  then  said: 
"I  don't  see  how  they  can  be  guaranteed,  with  all 
this  broken  glass  lying  about  the  road.  Think 
how  the  drunken  carters  throw  out  the  empty 
beer-bottles ! " 

I  don't  know  why  it  is,  but  at  times  Ruth  irri- 
tates me!  It  is  so  hard  to  explain  to  a  woman 
anything  that  involves  a  mathematical  problem. 
I  made  no  reply,  but  the  remark  troubled  me.  I 
could  not  frame  an  explanation  which  satisfied  me 
or  in  a  way  I  felt  she  would  understand !  I  tried 
on  the  law  of  average,  like  the  insurance  actuaries, 
but,  as  I  say,  I  could  not  get  it  to  suit  me.  It  was 
something  like  my  early  attempts  to  explain  to  a 
Bible  class  why  Jacob,  rather  than  Esau,  should 
have  inherited  the  blessing  I 

However,  my  mind  was  soon  diverted  by  the 
charming  scenery  and  the  unfamihar  sights  on 
every  side.  But  about  an  hour  later  an  unfamiliar 
sound  called  me  from  the  beauties  of  England  to 
the  motor  which  I  was  driving. 

Ruth  said:  "What  can  that  be?" 

I  confessed  I  did  not  know.     It  came  at  regular 

intervals.    When  the  car  ran  fast  it  was  quick, 

when  I  slowed  down  it  lessened  in  frequency  but 

not  in  volume.     I  stopped  and  looked  under  the 

[102] 


THE  PISTON-ROD 


hood,  but  could  find  nothing  amiss.  So  we  con- 
tinued on  our  way.  It  seemed  to  grow  worse, 
and  soon  the  whole  car  was  shaken  by  the  jar. 
Then  I  remembered  I  had  never  tested  the  valves 
to  see  if  they  leaked,  so  I  again  lifted  the  hood 
and  dropped  a  few  drops  of  oil  on  each  of  the 
valves  in  turn  and  started  the  engine  up.  Yes, 
that  was  the  trouble,  Nos.  2  and  4  were  not  quite 
tight.  I  was  much  pleased  with  myself,  and 
when  I  had  tightened  them  took  my  place  at  the 
wheel,  congratulating  myself  on  being  such  a 
good  mechanic.  Indeed,  I  did  not  think  Ruth 
overstated  the  case  when  she  said:  "I  think  you 
are  wonderful."  But,  alas!  the  noise  and  the 
jar  continued,  and  I  began  to  fear  that  some  seri- 
ous injury  had  been  sustained. 

When  I  opened  the  hood  once  more  I  showed 
Ruth  how  to  start  the  engine  so  that  I  could  test 
the  engine  better  than  when  it  was  at  rest.  I 
put  my  head  down  so  near  the  cyKnder  that  I 
nearly  burned  my  ear,  and  found  that  there  was 
no  noise  at  all!  I  then  told  her  to  let  in  the 
clutch  and  let  the  car  run  on  the  road  slowly. 
"I  said  'slowly'!"  I  cried,  as  the  motor  nearly 
ran  over  me.  So  Ruth  tried  again.  I  hopped 
along  by  the  side  of  the  car  as  best  I  could,  hear- 
ing the  distressing  noise  more  plainly  than  ever, 
coming,  I  was  now  convinced,  from  the  interior 
of  the  cylinder. 

I  103  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"We  have  broken  a  piston-rod,"  I  said  in  a 
calm  but  desperate  tone,  "  and  the  car  will  have 
to  be  laid  up  for  an  indefinite  time  to  replace 
it." 

"But  how  could  we  break  a  piston-rod  when 
we  have  met  with  no  accident  that  could  break 
anything?"  exclaimed  Ruth. 

Like  a  doctor  who  has  diagnosed  a  case  to  his 
own  satisfaction,  I  could  afford  to  be  patient  with 
a  layman,  so  I  replied:  "Well,  you  see  there  is 
sometimes  a  flaw  in  the  metal,  and  the  mere  ex- 
pansion and  contraction  by  heat  and  cold  may 
cause  the  metal  to  break  without  any  concussion 
at  all." 

It  was  a  tiny  village  in  which  we  had  stopped, 
but  all  the  inhabitants  had  assembled,  and  it  was 
surprising  to  see  how  many  of  them  there  were  I 

"What's  the  trouble.^"  said  one. 

"A  broken  piston-rod,"  I  replied  tersely.  In- 
deed, annoying  as  it  was,  I  felt  a  certain  pride  in 
the  gravity  of  the  situation!  I  was  hke  a  man 
seized  with  a  sudden  pain  in  the  night,  whose 
trouble  the  doctor  declares  to  be  "appendicitis"; 
he  is  alarmed,  but  still  has  the  satisfaction  of  feel- 
ing that  the  family  will  now  know  that  he  did  not 
call  them  from  their  beds  for  a  vulgar  stomach- 
ache! 

I  was  about  to  inquire  if  there  was  any  one  in 
the  village  who  had  a  horse  which  could  tow  us 
[104  ] 


THE  PISTON-ROD 


to  the  nearest  garage,  when  Ruth  remarked: 
"There  is  one  funny  thing  about  it " 

This  did  irritate  me,  and  I  sarcastically  re- 
marked: "I  am  glad  your  sense  of  humor  is  so 
keen.  I  suppose  I  am  dull,  but  a  broken  piston- 
rod  does  not  strike  me  as  'humorous.'" 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  as  they  always  do 
when  my  ill  temper  takes  the  form  of  sarcasm, 
and  I  felt  hke  the  brute  I  am.  So  I  hurriedly 
added:  "  It's  all  right,  honey,  what  were  you  going 
to  say.^" 

"I  was  only  going  to  say,"  said  she,  with  a 
gulp,  and  tactfully  changing  the  form  of  her  re- 
mark, "that  it  seems  strange  that  we  should 
hear  no  sound  when  we  are  standing  stiU  and 
the  engine  running  if  the  trouble  is  a  piston-rod." 

I  pondered  this  for  a  moment  and  then  said: 
"Well,  let's  see  if  that  is  so."  I  started  the  en- 
gine and  it  ran  as  sweetly  as  one  could  wish,  but 
as  soon  as  the  car  began  to  move — bump,  bump, 
bump  was  heard  louder  than  ever. 

At  that  moment  an  urchin,  who  had  been  doing 
some  investigating  on  his  own  hook,  called  out: 
"Your  tire's  fiat!" 

The  announcement  was  as  reassuring  and  as 
humihating  as  to  have  the  doctor  say,  when  you 
were  convinced  you  had  appendicitis,  "What  the 
deuce  have  you  been  eating.^"  This  tiny  lay- 
man had  diagnosed  correctly  a  case  which  the 
[  105  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

learned  of  the  faculty  had  failed  to  understand ! 
He  promptly  received  his  fee  and  scampered  off 
with  his  companions  to  spend  it  before  Ruth  and 
I  had  reached  the  back  of  the  car  and  were  gaz- 
ing at  a  long  nail  protruding  from  the  tire  of  one 
of  the  rear  wheels. 

I  had  never  changed  a  rim  before,  but  I  re- 
membered the  agent  had  told  me  that  it  took 
three  minutes.  It  did — and  twenty-seven  more 
— ^but  what  was  that  compared  with  a  week's 
waiting  to  have  a  broken  piston-rod  replaced  ? 

When  we  were  again  under  way,  I  said:  "We 
were  talking  this  morning  about  the  guarantee 
on  tires,  and  I  ought  to  have  explained  that  the 
guarantee,  of  course,  refers  only  to  the  bursting 
of  a  tire  and  not  to  an  accident  like  this."  Why 
is  it  we  men  cannot  make  up  oiu*  minds  to  tell 
the  truth  to  the  wives  of  our  bosoms  ?  I  have  not 
in  mind  now  our  wickedness  but  our  folly.  Ruth 
knew  as  well  as  I  did  that  this  great  truth  had 
not  daAvned  on  my  clouded  brain  until  the  rusty 
nail  had  punctured  the  tire  and  my  ignorance  at 
the  same  time!  Of  course  she  expressed  her 
gratification  at  this  bit  of  valuable  information. 
What  would  women  do  with  their  spare  time  if 
they  did  not  have  to  waste  so  much  of  it  in  "saving 
the  faces"  of  their  lords! 


[  106] 


FALSTAFF 


XX 

FALSTAFF 

We  were  destined  to  have  another  experience 
with  the  car  that  day  before  we  reached  our 
destination.  As  we  drew  near  Shrewsbury  there 
was  a  sharp  shower,  which,  though  it  did  not  last 
many  minutes,  was  enough  to  make  the  roads 
rather  greasy.  As  we  had,  however,  such  a  short 
distance  to  go,  it  did  not  seem  worth  while  to  put 
on  the  chains.  As  we  drove  along  the  main  street 
I  was  very  careful,  fearing  we  might  skid.  There 
is  a  tramway  running  through  the  street,  which 
did  not  make  things  easier,  for  the  rails  were  wet 
and  shining  in  the  rain.  The  street  is  hned  with 
trees,  and  on  one  side  is  a  high  brick  wall.  My 
subconscious  mind  was  noting  all  these  things  and 
perhaps  allowing  me  to  drive  a  little  faster  than 
I  had  intended,  when  suddenly  the  car,  as  if  it 
were  possessed  of  a  devil,  shot  from  the  track  to 
the  sidewalk,  passing  between  two  trees,  grazing 
the  wall,  and  was  back  again  on  the  rails  before 
one  could  say  "Jack  Robinson,"  or  even  the  Eng- 
lish equivalent,  "Knife"!  It  was  not  the  rear 
wheels  which  had  slipped  but  the  front  ones  I  No 
one  had  ever  told  me  that  could  happen,  nor 
should  I  have  known  how  to  guard  against  it  if 
they  had.  Was  it  not  fortunate  that  it  was  the 
[  107] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

tea  hour  that  the  car  chose  for  this  Httle  side- trip  ? 
All  the  tradespeople  were  in  the  back  rooms  be- 
hind their  shops,  and  the  street  was  almost  de- 
serted, I  trembled  to  think  what  might  have 
happened  had  children  been  on  their  way  to  or 
from  school,  or  feeble  folk  had  failed  to  jmnp  like 
grasshoppers!  I  never  was  more  thankful  than 
when  I  turned  the  motor  into  the  garage  of  the 
"Raven." 

Our  first  business  in  Shrewsbury  was,  of  course, 
to  visit  the  battle-field.  I  reminded  Ruth  as  we 
drove  out  of  the  town  the  following  morning  of 
a  saying  of  yours:  that  the  best  investment  any 
nation  or  town  could  make  was  to  breed  a  genius ! 
"Sir  Walter  Scott,"  you  said,  "had  brought  more 
money  to  Scotland  than  all  the  ship-building  on 
the  Clyde,  and  that  the  money  spent  each  year 
in  Marseilles,  by  men  and  women  who  came  from 
all  over  the  world  to  look  at  the  ChMeau  d'lf, 
and  speculate  as  to  which  side  of  it  a  man,  who 
had  never  Hved,  had  escaped  could  not  be  counted 
for  multitude!"  It  is  the  same  here.  What 
a  trimnph  of  the  imagination  it  is  that  after 
four  hundred  years  pilgrims  should  stiU  be  wend- 
ing their  way  to  the  field  of  Shrewsbury,  as 
many  were  doing  that  morning !  Not  because  it 
was  historical — as  the  French  say — "they  mock 
themselves  well  of  that."  It  is  Shakespeare  who 
is  the  Pied  Piper  that  led  us  all  to  the  spot  where 
[  108] 


FALSTAFF 


Harry  Monmouth  and  Hotspur  fought  indeed, 
but  where  Falstaff  bore  off  the  honors  of  the  day ! 
What  a  futile  fight  it  was !  Would  not  England 
have  been  better  off  ff  Percy  had  won  ?  Did  not 
the  triumph  of  Henry  IV  sow  the  dragon's  teeth 
that  were  harvested  in  the  Wars  of  the  Roses? 
Did  it  not  lead  to  the  desolation  of  France  and  the 
crime  of  Jeanne  d' Arc's  death?  It  is  the  genius 
of  Shakespeare  alone  which  lends  glamour  to  this 
stupidity.  Look  at  the  heroes !  Has  any  figure 
in  history,  except  the  miserable  Stuarts,  called 
forth  such  sympathy  as  the  reckless  Hotspur? 
How  much  Percy  resembles  our  national  hero! 
It  is  the  feminine  in  us  that  admires  Henry  V — 
the  reformed  rake!  It  would  seem  as  if  the 
prudent,  calculating  world  reacts  in  shame  from 
Henry  IV,  as  if  it  saw  in  him  a  picture  of  itself, 
and  admires  the  reckless  Percy  just  because  it 
dare  not  follow  him!  Falstaff  is  the  real  hero. 
The  fool  at  the  feast  of  folly !  Gross  and  witty, 
brave  enough  but  cynical — ^what  genius  to  draw 
respectable  people  to  such  companionship  and 
compel  them  to  enjoy  it  though  they  are  ashamed 
to  be  seen  with  him !  I  suppose  the  real  explana- 
tion of  this  moral  paradox  is  that  human  nature 
esteems  a  sinner  more  than  it  does  a  hypocrite. 
The  Lord  Chancellor  was  a  more  respectable  man 
than  Falstaff,  but  he  was  a  humbug,  and  we  are 
glad  the  fat  knight  flouted  him. 
[  109  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

While  I  was  thus  moralizing  and,  no  doubt, 
boring  Ruth,  we  had  reached  the  battle-field,  and 
she  exclaimed:  "Why,  there  is  Mr.  Rhodes!" — 
the  historian,  whom  she  had  known  in  Boston — 
and  ran  to  meet  him. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Rhodes,"  she  cried,  "I  am  sure  you 
have  made  some  new  historical  discovery!" 

"I  have,  indeed,"  he  gravely  repHed,  but  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"Tell  me  at  once  what  it  is,"  she  asked  eageriy. 

"I  have  discovered  a  new  he  of  FalstafT's — he 
'fought  a  long  hour  by  Shrewsbury  clock,'  and 
the  clock  is  not  visible  from  the  battle-field ! " 

Shrewsbury  was  one  of  the  ancient  and  is  still 
one  of  the  modern  gates  into  Wales,  and  had  we 
been  tied  to  a  route  we  should  have  entered  the 
kindgom  of  Glendower  from  there,  but  we  re- 
ceived two  letters  which  changed  our  plans,  and 
led  us  to  leave  the  motor,  and  depart  in  different 
directions  by  train.  Of  which  you  will  hear  in 
due  time. 


[110  J 


THE  BLACK  COUNTRY 


XXI 

THE  BLACK  COUNTRY 

My  letter  was  from  Archdeacon  Williams.  I 
had  never  met  him  but  had  read  his  books  and 
been  much  influenced  by  them,  as  I  know  you 
have  been.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  hesitated  about 
accepting  his  invitation  to  spend  the  "week-end," 
for  I  feared  I  might  be  disappointed!  Authors 
are  like  miners:  they  put  the  precious  metal  into 
their  books,  but  when  one  gets  to  the  mine  there 
is  apt  to  be  a  lot  of  "slag"  lying  about !  But  it 
was  not  so  in  this  case.  The  books  are  the  man 
— he  hves  as  he  talks. 

England  is  the  land  of  contrasts.  Shropshire 
seems  to  belong  to  another  planet,  when  one  gets 
into  the  dark  and  chilly  atmosphere  of  the  black 
country.  It  was  most  depressing.  Instead  of  the 
charming  vicarage  I  had  pictured,  I  found  a 
plain  brick  house  on  the  street  of  the  town,  and 
instead  of  a  blooming  garden,  a  few  sickly  shrubs, 
blackened,  like  everything  else,  by  the  smoke 
from  the  mills. 

But  within  all  was  sweetness  and  light.     The 

house  was  overflowing  with  delightful  children, 

and  every  one  seemed  to  be  at  work.    Or,  perhaps 

I  should  say,  every  one  seemed  to  have  a  purpose, 

[  111  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

for  as  I  arrived  at  tea-time,  work  had  been  sus- 
pended. 

There  was  but  one  drawback:  the  archdeacon 
does  not  smoke,  and  does  not  seem  to  have  heard 
that  any  one  else  does!  I  thought  that  three 
days  would  be  more  than  I  could  bear.  But, 
indeed,  mind  and  body  were  kept  so  busy  that  I 
hardly  missed  my  pipe  at  aU !    Can  I  say  more  ? 

The  archdeacon  and  I  sat  up  until  all  hours  of 
the  night,  talking  of  the  things  which  are  most 
worth  while. 

He  is  an  extraordinary  man — ^not  only  a  good 
classical  scholar  but  also  a  notable  mathema- 
tician. He  is  quite  at  home  in  all  the  scientific 
theories  which  are  the  vogue  to-day,  and  insisted 
that  theology  can  have  no  interest  for  the  modern 
mind  until  theologians  abandon  the  mediaeval, 
a  priori  method  for  the  inductive,  and  use  words 
as  the  symbols  of  truths  which  can  be  verified. 
Then  it  will  be  found  that  the  "faith"  for  which 
the  saints  contended  was  the  reality  without 
which  man  cannot  hve.  He  said  many  things  of 
which  I  will  tell  you  when  we  meet;  but  one  I 
send  you  now,  for  you  might  have  said  it  your- 
self!  "Men  are  forever  talking  about  'faith'  as 
if  the  important  thing  were  the  quantity  of  it, 
whereas  the  thing  that  matters  is  its  quality. 
The  faith  which  overcame  the  world  is  not  the 
mass  of  opinion  which  has  accumulated  through 
[  112] 


THE  BLACK  COUNTRY 


the  ages,  but  the  deep  conviction  that  God  is 
Spirit,  and  that  the  character  of  that  Spirit  has 
been  revealed  in  the  person  of  Jesus." 

The  way  the  man  works  would,  I  think,  aston- 
ish you.  This  is  what  we  did  on  Saturday: 
breakfast  at  8,  then  prayers  in  the  parish  church 
at  9.  He  agrees  with  Bishop  Creighton  that  it  is 
better  to  have  many  of  the  parish  come  together 
for  prayers  each  day  than  to  have  family  prayers, 
with  which,  I  am  sure,  you  will  no  more  agree 
than  I  do !  At  9.30  he  shut  himself  in  his  study 
and  did  not  appear  again  until  1  o'clock.  Then 
we  had  dinner,  all  the  family  taking  part  in  the 
talk,  which  was  good,  and  I  hstened.  The  last 
you  wUl  not  beUeve,  but  it  is  true ! 

Mrs.  WiUiams  is  as  remarkable  in  her  way  as 
he,  and  is  a  real  intellectual  companion.  When 
I  spoke  to  him  of  her,  he  said:  "Think  of  the  men 
who  are  asphyxiated  by  dull  wives !"     I  did ! 

The  children  adore  their  father,  though  Rose 
— ^a  girl  of  about  twelve — told  me  they  could  have 
a  pony  if  their  father  did  not  give  so  much  to 
the  poor.  When  I  suggested  that  this  was  a 
good  way  to  use  money,  she  agreed,  but  added: 
"It  seems  a  pity  there  is  not  enough  for  both." 
In  which  opinion,  no  doubt,  many  will  agree. 

At  2.30  a  large  van  drove  up  to  the  door,  and 
into  it  we  all  piled,  except  the  very  httle  ones,  to 
go  to  the  Sunday-school  treat.  We  stopped  at 
[  113] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

many  a  comer  to  pick  up  the  teachers — all  of 
whom  were  workers  in  the  mills — and  drove  to  a 
grove  some  miles  away,  where  the  feast  was 
spread. 

I  sat  next  a  man  of  about  fifty  years  of  age, 
who,  when  he  learned  that  I  was  an  American, 
"let  himself  go."  He  had  friends  who  had  mi- 
grated to  the  "States,"  and  admitted  that  the 
wages  were  much  larger  than  in  England,  but 
added  that,  as  the  expense  of  Uving  was  so  much 
greater,  there  was  not  much  in  it.  I  did  not  re- 
mind him  that  the  greater  expense  meant  also 
better  Uving  conditions,  for  I  wanted  to  hear 
him  talk.  He  complained  that  our  people  worked 
longer  hours  than  they  did,  and  were  so  tired  at 
the  end  of  the  day  that  they  could  not  enjoy  the 
rest  when  it  came.  He  wanted  to  know  if  the 
tariff  helped  our  trade.  I  laughed  and  told  him 
there  was  great  difference  of  opinion  on  that 
subject,  and  that  I  did  not  pretend  to  be  an 
authority,  but  was  inclined  to  think  that  the 
willingness  of  the  workers  to  use  new  machinery 
had  more  to  do  with  our  prosperity  than  any- 
thing the  government  did. 

"Ay,"  said  he,  "that  is  what  the  masters  tell 
us,  but  we  do  not  heed  them.  We  know  that  this 
new  machinery  can  be  speeded  up  till  a  man's 
heart  is  broke." 

It  was  not  the  man's  opinion  that  interested 
[  114] 


THE  BLACK  COUNTRY 


me  so  much  as  his  willingness  to  talk;  for  I  had 
heard  frequent  complaints  that  the  working  men 
would  talk  freely  only  with  their  mates.  But  I 
got  a  new  hght  on  that,  for,  when  we  had  risen 
and  sung  "God  Save  the  King,"  my  neighbor 
turned  to  me  and  said:  "You  will  excuse  me  if  I 
have  talked  too  free,  but  this  is  the  first  time  in 
my  life  that  I  ever  talked  with  a  gentleman." 

I  could  have  wept.  "But,"  I  said,  "you  must 
often  have  talked  to  the  vicar  .»^" 

"Ay,"  he  replied,  "but  he  is  a  man"  And 
with  this  cryptic  saying  I  had  to  be  content ! 

One  other  thing  he  told  me  that  I  am  sure  will 
interest  you.  He  said  that  in  the  dark  days  of 
the  cotton  famine,  during  our  Civil  War,  he  could 
remember  as  a  little  boy  seeing  his  father  go,  with 
many  others,  to  receive  the  food  distributed  to 
the  poor.  "That  was  the  only  time  any  of  my 
name  received  anything  from  the  rates,  and  it 
was  bitter  hard  for  father.  There  were  men  who 
came  up  from  Liverpool  and  told  us  that  if  the 
working  men  of  Lancashire  would  send  a  deputa- 
tion to  Parliament,  the  war  would  be  stopped, 
and  we  could  get  cotton  to  open  the  mills.  But 
my  father  was  one  of  those  who  said  that  it  was 
the  cause  of  free  labor  you  were  fighting  for,  and 
that  if  the  men  would  hold  on  a  bit,  God  would 
come  to  our  help.  He  learned  that,  I  now  know, 
from  John  Bright.  And  so  the  men  held  out. 
I  115] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

But  it  was  hard."  Isn't  that  fine  ?  And  doesn't 
it  make  Lord  John  Russell  and  Gladstone  look 
cheap  ? 

By  some  iU  chance  Rose  and  I  got  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  party,  and  the  van  drove  off 
without  us.  When  Rose  learned  this,  she  thought 
it  a  huge  joke,  and  said  we  should  have  to  walk. 
I  said:  "Not  on  your  Hfe !"  This  familiar  saying 
filled  her  with  delight,  and  she  cried:  "Oh,  I  say, 
that  is  a  jolly  saying;  I  must  tell  that  to  Dick, 
and  he  can  take  it  back  to  school !" 

"That  is  all  very  well,"  said  I,  "but  what  is 
going  to  take  us  back  to  home  P " 

She  suggested  a  "fly."  I  solemnly  remarked 
that  I  did  not  believe  there  was  a  fly  big  enough 
to  carry  us  both. 

She  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  in  astonish- 
ment and  then  cried:  "Why,  I  beheve  you  are 
thinking  of  an  insect .'" 

I  asked  what  else  one  could  think  of.  She 
pondered  this  a  moment  and  then  said  she  be- 
lieved I  was  making  game  of  her.  Nothing,  I 
assured  her,  was  farther  from  my  thoughts. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "if  you  are  sure  you  don't 
know,  I  will  teU  you;  a  fly  is  something  that  a 
horse  pulls." 

I  asked  if  it  was  a  cart.  But  apparently  she 
had  given  me  up  as  hopeless,  and  taking  me  by 
the  hand,  led  me  to  a  livery-stable,  where  the 
[  116  ] 


THE  BLACK  COUNTRY 


proprietor  produced  a  fly  and  announced  that  the 
price  would  be  ten  shiUings,  and  asked  if  he 
should  "put  it  down"  to  the  vicar.  Rose  looked 
much  alarmed  at  this,  and  was  proportionately 
reheved  when  I  paid  the  amount. 

There  was  silence  for  a  little  space  after  we 
started,  and  then  Rose  said,  as  if  to  herself: 
"Daddy  would  have  walked." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "but  you  must  remember  he 
is  over  six  feet  tall,  and  his  stride  is  about  three- 
foot-three,  whereas  I  step  only  about  two-foot- 
six;  so  you  can  calculate  how  much  longer  it 
would  take  me  to  walk  seven  miles  than  it  would 
him." 

"Don't  you  hate  arithmetic?"  she  exclaimed. 

I  admitted  that  I  was  not  fond  of  it. 

"I  simply  loathe  it,"  she  declared.  "Such  a 
silly  thing,  I  call  it!  Why  should  one  spend 
hours  in  trying  to  find  out  how  many  yai6s  of 
carpet  it  takes  to  cover  the  schoolroom  floor,  when 
all  one  has  to  do  is  to  run  through  Tod  Lane  and 
ask  Mr.  SraaU,  who  keeps  the  shop,  and  he  can 
tell  in  a  moment,  without  even  looking  at  a  book." 

"But  suppose  Mr.  Small  thought  it  to  his  ad- 
vantage to  sell  you  more  carpet  than  you  needed  ?  " 

"Why,  he  wouldn't  do  such  a  thing,"  she  in- 
dignantly replied;   "he  is  a  churchwarden." 

There  was  another  short  silence  and  then  she 
began  ag£iin:  "Ten  shillings  is  a  lot  of  money." 
[117] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

I  agreed. 

"However,"  she  continued,  "I  suppose  it 
doesn't  signify.  Americans  are  very  rich,  are 
they  not .»" 

I  said  some  were. 

"But  you  must  be  to  hand  out  ten  shillings  just 
Uke  that." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  My  share  is  only  five  shil- 
lings.   You  will  pay  half,  will  you  not.^^" 

"Not  living!''  she  hastily  exclaimed.  "There, 
I  have  that  wrong.  Please  say  it  again."  When 
I  had  repeated  the  famihar  slang,  she  echoed  it. 
Evidently  it  gave  her  great  satisfaction,  for  I 
heard  her  muttering  it  to  herself  over  and  over 
again.  Finally  she  said:  "That  is  a  jolly  saying." 
Then,  with  apparent  irrelevance — but  that  no 
doubt  was  due  to  my  slowness  in  following  her 
mental  processes — "  I  am  glad  you  came." 

I  laughed  and  said  I  was  glad  too. 

"Not,"  continued  this  artless  young  person, 
"  that  we  were  glad  when  we  first  heard  you  were 
coming — I  mean  except  daddy.  Mother  said: 
*  Dear  me !  I  fear  he  will  expect  a  bathroom  to 
himself!'  And  Dick  said:  'Is  he  as  dirty  as  all 
that.^'  Even  daddy  laughed  at  that.  And  Dick 
was  so  much  pleased  with  himself  that  he  got  a 
bit  above  himself,  and  went  on  to  say  that  all 
Americans  were  'bounders.'  So  daddy  stopped 
his  'sweet,'  and  he  did  look  silly  1  But  it  seems 
[118] 


AN  "AVERAGE"  SUNDAY 


to  me  you  are  just  like  other  people,  only  rather 

As  we  drew  near  the  house  she  evidently  began 
to  think  that,  after  all,  Dick  might  be  an  au- 
thority on  "bounders,"  for  she  remarked,  with 
studied  carelessness:  "I  shouldn't  think  it  neces- 
sary to  repeat  at  home  everything  we  have  been 
talking  about." 

I  gravely  assured  her  that  I  made  it  a  rule 
never  to  repeat  the  conversation  I  had  had  with 
the  young  lady  I  took  buggy-riding. 

" Buggy-riding .^"  she  cried;  "what  is  that.*^" 
"Why,  what  you  call  a  fly,  we  call  a  buggy." 
Her  reaction  was  rather  deliberate,  but  finally 
she  exclaimed:     "Oh,    I   see.     'Bug'   and   'fly.' 
That's  awfully  good.    I  must  tell  Dick  that  I" 


XXII 

AN  "AVERAGE"  SUNDAY 

Sunday  was  "some"  day  I  Early  service  at  8 
o'clock,  a  hurried  breakfast  at  8.45,  and  then  we 
started  for  the  mission  chapel,  where  the  arch- 
deacon was  to  preach.  I  was  curious  to  see  how 
this  scholar  would  adapt  himself  to  the  sort  of 
congregation  I  knew  he  would  meet  there.  Noth- 
ing could  have  been  better.  He  did  not  "con- 
[119] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

descend  to  men  of  low  estate,"  but  gave  them  as 
thoughtful  a  message  as  he  would  have  dehvered 
at  the  imiversity,  yet  clothed  in  such  simple  lan- 
guage as  the  most  unlearned  could  understand. 

"Truly,"  I  said  to  myself,  "here  is  a  scribe  who 
bringeth  out  of  his  treasure  things  new  as  well  as 
old." 

The  archdeacon  has,  of  course,  besides  his  duty 
as  vicar,  many  calls  for  work  outside  the  parish. 
I  was  told  that  this  day  he  was  to  preach  at  a 
church  some  twelve  miles  distant,  and,  therefore, 
there  would  be  no  time  for  dinner!  However, 
Mrs.  Williams  made  us  a  package  of  sandwiches, 
which  we  munched  as  we  drove  to  the  church 
where  he  was  to  preach  the  annual  sermon  on 
•  education. 

The  church  was  a  barn  of  a  place,  and  the 
atmosphere  decidedly  "  evangehcal."  There  were 
the  old  square  pews  which  one  sees  in  pictures  of 
the  eighteenth  century;  and  when  we  knelt  down 
my  legs  were  covered  by  the  voluminous  folds  of 
a  bright-blue  silk  dress,  worn  by  a  farmer's  wife, 
so  that  I  was  not  quite  sure  of  my  identity,  tiU  a 
pair  of  stout  white  stockings,  encasing  most  solid 
ankles,  showed  me  that  my  own  legs  had  not  yet 
emerged ! 

The  sermon  was  a  plea  for  parochial  schools, 
which  would  have  left  me  cold  had  it  not  been 
for  the  interpretation  of  the  Parable  of  the  Sower, 
[  120] 


AN  "AVERAGE"  SUNDAY 


from  which  the  text  was  taken.  "The  soil,"  said 
the  preacher,  "is  human  nature.  At  the  first 
glance  it  might  seem  as  if  man  was  no  more  re- 
sponsible for  his  character  than  is  a  field  for  the 
difiTerent  conditions  of  its  soil.  But  there  would 
have  been  no  'gospel,'  that  is,  'good  news,'  in 
that.  No,  what  it  means,  every  farmer  will  un- 
derstand. There  is  no  soil  that  is  hopeless,  and 
none  that  does  not  need  to  be  cultivated.  Our 
schools  are  to  make  poor  soil  good,  and  good  soil 
better."    And  so  on. 

On  the  way  home  the  subject  of  education  could 
not  be  ignored.  The  archdeacon  was  none  too 
pleased  to  learn  that  I  did  not  think  well  of  pa- 
rochial schools,  and  insisted  that  "godless"  schools 
were  worse  than  none.  He  would  not  agree  that 
dogmatic  teaching  might  be  dispensed  with  and 
yet  character  be  built  up.  When  I  pointed  out 
that  Jews  and  Cathohcs  made  up  a  large  part  of 
our  urban  population,  and,  not  unnaturally,  the  one 
objected  to  Christian  and  the  other  to  Protestant 
teaching,  he  could  only  see  how  unfortunate  it  was 
that  we  had  no  Estabhshed  Church !  Once  more  I 
was  impressed  by  the  fact  that  no  man  is  hberal 
all  through !  Though  he  had  been  in  the  "  States," 
his  journey  had  led  him  only  to  the  South — and 
that,  too,  in  the  days  of  Reconstruction.  He  had 
never  seen  New  York  or  Ohio  or  New  England, 
so  that  I  could  not  feel  that  he  was  to  be  blamed 
[  121  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

for  thinking  poorly  of  our  school  system.  But 
he  made  one  remark  worth  remembering,  to  see 
if  he  is  a  "seer"  as  well  as  a  prophet,  which  latter 
he  assuredly  is. 

"You  are  doing  the  thing  on  the  'cheap.'  You 
do  not  pay  your  teachers  enough  to  make  it  worth 
while  for  men  to  make  teaching  a  profession,  and, 
as  a  result,  not  only  the  girls  but  the  boys  as 
well  are  for  years  under  the  inQuence  of  women. 
This  is  bad  and  cannot  fail  to  affect  the  national 
character — as  you  will  find  if  a  great  crisis  were 
to  come.  It  may,  as  I  have  heard  it  said,  tend 
to  'refinement'  of  speech  and  manners,  but  the 
price  is  too  high.  It  will  make  them  effeminate, 
that  is,  sentimental,  and  sometimes  hysterical. 
It  is  the  manly  virtues  of  endurance  and  disre- 
gard of  trifles,  which  men  alone  can  inculcate, 
which  have  made  England  what  she  is.  Should 
a  great  war  come — and  I  fear  that  cannot  be  long 
delayed — ^you  will  find  your  boys  cannot  bear  the 
strain." 

I  hope  that,  as  Nehemiah  liked  to  say,  "  It  may 
be  counted  to  me  for  righteousness"  that  I  re- 
frained from  mentioning  1776,  or  1812,  or  even 
the  Civil  War— the  "Bloody  Angle,"  and  Pickett's 
charge  at  Gettysburg — for  that  might  have  raised 
the  Alabama  ! 

In  the  evening  I  preached  in  the  parish  church 
— "the  noblest  parish  church  in  England,"  I  was 
[  122] 


AN  "AVERAGE"  SUNDAY 


told  Ruskin  called  it.  Well,  the  sermon  was  not 
worthy  of  the  church.  I  don't  know  what  was 
the  matter.  You  know  how  such  things  go! 
One  trouble  was  that,  all  the  time  I  was  speaking, 
I  wished  to  say  something  else!  Ruth  haunted 
me!  I  could  hear  her  whispering:  "Better  be 
dull  and  decent  than  'start  something'!"  So  I 
was  dull ! 

At  nine  o'clock  we  sat  down  to  a  supper  of  cold 
beef  and  bread  and  cheese,  and  mighty  good  they 
tasted.  Now  was  not  that  a  day.^  I  asked  the 
archdeacon  if  it  had  been  an  exceptional  day. 
"Oh,  no,"  he  said,  "I  should  say  an  average  day. 
I  often  go  to  the  town  hall  after  evening  service 
and  speak  to  the  men  who  do  not  care  to  come  to 
church.  *  SecuraHsts,'  they  call  themselves,  and 
as  they  are  almost  sure  to  heckle  one,  it  is  gen- 
erally interesting,  and  sometimes  exhausting." 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Enghsh  clergy  work 
harder  than  we  do — that  is,  those  who  pretend 
to  work.  While  Americans  find  the  cKmate  try- 
ing, I  am  inclined  to  think  one  can  accomplish 
more  in  a  climate  like  this  than  in  ours,  which 
alternately  exhilarates  and  depresses  one.  But 
I  suspect  there  is  a  deeper  reason  which  we  do 
not  like  to  admit,  which  is  that  they  are  better 
educated  than  we  are !  With  us  there  is  too  much 
"cramming"  for  the  occasion,  whereas  they  have 
a  treasury  from  which  they  can  draw  as  they  have 
[  123] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

need.  It  is  possible  also  that  there  is  an  advan- 
tage in  an  estabhshed  church  which  has  not  been 
recognized.  While  the  "dumb  dogs"  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  "vested  interest"  to  do  as  little  as 
possible,  the  best  men  work  in  an  atmosphere  of 
leisure  almost  unknown  to  us.  Unconsciously  we 
are  influenced  by  the  competition  which  is  the 
"life  of  trade."  I  do  not  mean  that  we  do  this 
in  any  unworthy  manner,  but  with  the  subcon- 
scious feehng  that  we  are  expected  to  "make 
good,"  and  this  leads  to  "pressing,"  which  is  as 
fatal  to  the  best  work  as  it  is  to  the  best  golf! 
Men  like  Williams  seem  to  me  to  work  without 
haste  and  without  rest. 

It  was  no  "Blue  Monday"  to  which  I  awoke. 
All  was  healthy  activity,  as  if  Sunday  had  been 
indeed  a  day  of  rest.  The  children  were  shooed 
into  the  schoolroom,  for  though  it  was  the  holi- 
days, there  were  tasks  which  must  be  done  before 
the  next  term.  Mrs.  WiUiams  had  a  meeting  of 
women,  for  some  good  work,  and  the  archdeacon 
had  gone  to  his  study  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
finished  to  talk  over  and  arrange  with  his  curates 
the  work  of  the  new  week. 

So  I  drove  to  the  station  in  a  "fly,"  and  bought 
a  third-class  ticket.  But  as  I  was  about  to  take 
my  place,  the  guard  appeared  and,  touching  his 
cap,  asked  if  I  was  from  the  vicarage.  When  I 
said,  "Yes,"  he  said,  "This  way,  please,"  and 
[  124] 


DOWAGER  AND  COWBOY 


showed  me  into  a  first-class  carriage,  the  door  of 
which  he  promptly  locked,  when  he  had  again 
touched  his  cap  and  said:  "Thank  you,  sir." 

" But,"  you  will  say,  "this  was  ' graft ' ! "  How 
crude  you  are!  Do  you  not  know  that  "graft" 
is  confined  to  Tammany  Hall?  This  was  proper 
respect  to  persons  of  importance ! 

"Convey,  the  wise  it  call.  Steal  1  foh;  a  fico 
for  the  phrase." 


XXIII 
DOWAGER  AND  COWBOY 

John  left  me  on  Friday  for  Saltbridge,  to  visit 
Archdeacon  Williams,  whom,  as  you  know,  he  is 
always  quoting.  They  have  never  met  and  I  do 
hope  they  will  not  be  disappointed  in  one  an- 
other, and  that  John  will  behave !  I  feel  like  a 
mother  whose  child  has  gone  to  visit  strangers. 
However,  I  comfort  myself  with  the  thought  that 
children  often  behave  better  when  they  are  left 
alone — I  suppose  because  they  then  have  a  keener 
sense  of  responsibihty ! 

I  expect  him  back  this  afternoon  and  am  hasten- 
ing to  write  you  before  his  return,  for  I  would 
not  have  him  see  this  letter  for  worlds.  He  would 
never  cease  teasing  me  about  my  "beloved 
English." 

[  125] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

He  had  scarcely  gone  before  a  telegram  came 
from  Gertrude  Shelbm^ne,  asking  me  to  come  to 
them  for  the  week-end.  I  was  glad  to  get  it, 
first,  because  I  am  devoted  to  her,  and  second, 
because  I  wanted  to  see  their  place,  which  I  had 
been  told  was  beautiful — I  suppose  I  ought  to 
add  that  I  had  already  begun  to  be  a  trifle  triste 
without  John. 

On  the  map  it  did  not  look  far  from  Shrews- 
bury to  Deepford,  but  the  porter  told  me  it  would 
save  time  if  I  went  up  to  "town"  and  caught  the 
Brighton  express,  which  would  stop  at  Deepford 
if  I  told  the  guard  I  was  for  Admiral  Shel- 
burne's.  This  did  not  seem  probable,  but  it 
proved  to  be  true. 

I  arrived  for  tea,  which  was  being  served  on  the 
lawn,  quite  as  in  an  English  novel.  I  felt  some- 
what like  the  poor  governess,  in  such  stories,  who 
is  destined  ultimately  to  marry  the  heir  of  the 
adjoining  estate,  but  has  not  yet  discovered  her 
fate !  For  I  was  feeling  a  little  shy — ^not  because 
the  people  were  so  fine,  but  because  they  were  so 
intimate.  If  one  does  not  know  the  people  talked 
of  in  an  Enghsh  household,  it  looks  as  if  one  did 
not  know  anybody !  However,  that  did  not  last 
long,  for  Gertrude,  who  had  been  motoring  with 
a  young  man  when  I  arrived,  soon  appeared  and 
made  me  feel  at  home. 

If  I  were  a  human  pig  I  should  arrange  to  have, 
[126] 


DOWAGER  AND  COWBOY 


each  day,  an  American  breakfast,  a  French  dinner, 
and  an  English  tea!  What  would  I  do  for 
luncheon?  Do  as  I  did  to-day.  Go  without 
one  in  order  to  enjoy  the  tea ! 

Admiral  Sir  George  Shelbume,  as  I  beheve  he 
is  formally  called,  is  as  dehghtful  as  ever.  He 
kissed  me,  not  quite  with  the  paternal  air  which 
should  go  with  his  years,  but  rather  like  one  who 
has  had  a  sweetheart  in  every  port !  He  is  under 
the  impression  that  he  rules  the  house  as  he  once 
ruled  a  man-of-war.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Ger- 
trude manages  him  and  every  one  else ! 

After  tea  the  admiral  asked  me  if  I  would  like 
to  see  the  gardens.  As  this  was  the  "first  time 
of  asking"  I  was  able  to  say  with  a  clear  con- 
science that  I  should  be  delighted.  How  I  wish 
you  might  see  these  gardens !  There  is  a  "lady's 
walk"  that  you  would  rejoice  to  make  a  water- 
color  of.  It  is  enclosed  by  brick  walls  of  a  deep 
red,  and  the  borders  are  a  riot  of  color.  Take 
down  your  Latin  dictionary  and  read  anywhere 
in  it,  and  you  will  get  a  notion  of  the  names  the 
admiral  called  off  to  me!  Whether  they  were 
right  or  wrong  I  have  no  means  of  knowing,  but 
it  sounded  very  learned.  I  asked  the  admiral  if 
his  taste  had  laid  out  the  lady's  walk,  and  he 
modestly  admitted  that  it  had;  and  the  best  of 
it  is  he  beheves  it.     Gertrude  is  a  wonder ! 

The  "guests"  were  a  young  man  who  is  secre- 
I  127] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

tary  to  some  one  in  the  government,  and  is 
never  separated  from  a  despatch-box,  supposed 
to  contain  international  secrets  upon  which  the 
peace  of  the  world  depends.  I  do  not  think  I 
ever  met  any  one  who  took  himself  quite  so  seri- 
ously. He  is  supposed  to  be  devoted  to  Gertrude, 
and  is  probably  as  much  interested  in  her  as  he 
can  be  in  any  one  besides  himself.  So  I  fear  she 
is,  at  best,  but  a  bad  second !  There  is,  however, 
trouble  brewing  for  that  young  man,  as  I  learned 
as  soon  as  I  saw  a  "photo"  (by  the  way,  one  never 
says  "photograph"  in  pohte  society,  but  "photo," 
and  "pram,"  and  "bike."  It  is  a  liberty  the 
owners  take  with  their  language.  This  sounds  like 
John,  the  reason  being  that  for  the  moment  I  feel 
like  John.  But  you  will  be  saying:  "What  about 
the  photograph  ?  ")  How  curious  you  are !  Well, 
if  you  must  know,  it  is  of  a  young  naval  officer  the 
Shelbumes  met  at  "Gib,"  two  years  ago.  He  has 
a  straight  nose  and  a  firm  chin  a  la  Gibson,  and 
blue  eyes,  and  his  name  is  Guy.  Doesn't  this  tell 
you  all  you  need  to  know.*^  The  admiral  is  sup- 
posed to  favor  the  young  man  with  the  despatch- 
box — possibly  because  he  knows  too  much  about 
sweethearts  in  every  port.  How  do  you  guess  it 
will  end.*^  See  what  powers  of  condensation  I 
have!  It  took  Gertrude  two  hoiu«  to  tell  me 
what  I  have  written  in  a  few  moments ! 
There  are  two  perfectly  uninteresting  men  be- 
[128  1 


DOWAGER  AND  COWBOY 


sides  the  one  already  spoken  of,  and  three  non- 
descript women  who  devoted  themselves  to  me. 
Only  one  of  them  calls  for  any  attention.  This  is 
Lady  Agatha  Bumstead.  She  is  handsome  and 
really  means  to  be  nice,  but  unfortunately  she 
has  been  in  the  "States,"  and  does  not  want  to 
hear,  but  only  to  tell  about  them. 

After  dinner,  while  the  men  were  sitting  over 
their  wine,  she  suddenly  said  to  me:  "Have  you 
any  honest  judges  in  America  now.*^" 

I  said  I  hoped  so. 

She  replied:  "I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  When  I 
was  in  New  York,  with  my  dear  husband  (she  is 
a  dowager),  I  remember  they  were  trying  a  judge 
for  taking  a  bribe,  and  I  was  told  it  was  quite 
common." 

I  said  I  supposed  that  was  in  the  time  of  the 
Tweed  regime. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "that  was  the  name  of  the 
governor"  (sic). 

I  said  I  thought  things  had  improved  since 
then,  and  that,  after  all,  he  was  but  one  of  the 
hundreds  of  American  judges,  and  that  it  was 
hardly  fair  to  condemn  the  whole  bench  because 
of  the  iniquity  of  one  Tammany  judge. 

"But,"  she  said,  "I  thought  all  the  judges  in 
America  were  appointed  by  Tammany.  I  re- 
member my  husband  said,  when  he  was  trying  to 
recover  some  of  the  money  he  had  put  into  that 
[129] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

awful  Erie,  that  all  the  judges  were  appointed  by 
Tammany." 

Hoping  to  get  a  more  favorable  view  of  America 
if  I  moved  out  of  New  York,  I  asked  if  she  had 
travelled  much  in  the  "States.*' 

"Far  more  than  I  wished,"  she  dryly  remarked. 

I  expressed  my  sympathy. 

"You  see,"  she  continued,  "it  is  hard  for  people 
of  refinement  to  put  up  with  the  lack  of  manners 
in  America.  Of  course,  you  will  not  misunder- 
stand me,  my  dear;  I  do  not  mean  people  like 
yourself;  indeed,  as  I  was  saying  to  Sir  George 
at  dinner,  I  should  hardly  know  you  were  an 
American.    I  had  in  mind  the  lower  classes." 

I  feebly  remarked  that  I  thought  they  meant 
to  be  "kind." 

"Kind,  my  dear,"  she  exclaimed  in  a  shocked 
tone.  "What  business  have  they  to  be  'kind'? 
It  is  for  us  to  be  kind,  for  them  to  be  respectful. 
I  cannot  say  I  met  any  such.  I  had  an  experi- 
ence once  which  left  an  indeUble  impression  on 
my  mind.  You,"  she  continued,  turning  to  one 
of  the  other  women,  who  were  drinking  in  this 
unprejudiced  view  of  our  country,  "can  have  no 
conception  of  what  that  country  really  is.  While 
we  were  in  New  York,  trying  to  save  something 
out  of  the  wreck  of  the  Erie,  my  husband  met  a 
man  from  the  West  who  told  him  that  there  was 
a  fortune  to  be  made  in  silver-mines,  and  he 
[130] 


DOWAGER  AND  COWBOY 


started  with  him  to  look  into  it.  I  may  say  here 
that  he  lost  every  pemiy  he  put  into  this  ventm^e. 
The  mines  were  'pickled' — no,  I  think  the  word 
they  used  was  'salted.' 

"However,  that  does  not  signify  now — what  I 
was  going  to  tell  you  was,  that  he  was  detained 
longer  than  he  had  expected,  and  wrote  me  to 
join  him  in  a  place  called  Cheyenne.  So  I  started; 
but  what  I  endured  in  those  sleeping-cars  I  never 
told  even  my  husband.  It  wasn't  proper!  The 
passengers  were  of  the  most  ordinary  type,  mostly 
bagmen,  I  should  say.  And  the  women !  Vulgar 
and  overdressed.  I  must  say,  however,  I  was 
rather  pleased  with  the  black  man  who  waited 
on  the  passengers.  He  was  rather  grotesque,  but 
was  the  only  one  I  saw  who  seemed  to  have  at 
all  the  bearing  of  a  servant,  and  even  he  had  a 
habit  of  smihng  when  spoken  to  which  looked 
like  impudence,  till  one  learned  that  the  poor 
creature  had  never  been  properly  trained.  Well, 
at  length  we  reached  Cheyenne.  I  had  been  told 
that  it  was  the  capital  of  the  State,  or  whatever 
the  district  was  called,  and  you  may  imagine  my 
disgust  when  I  found  that  it  was  a  mere  jumble 
of  miserable  wooden  houses. 

"My  husband  was  not  there  to  meet  me — he 

had  gone  into  the  mountains  to  inspect  a  mine, 

and  there  had  been  a  'wash-out'  or  a  *  hot-box.' 

I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  the  difiference;   I  only 

[131] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

know  it  was  either  the  one  or  the  other  which 
continually  caused  delays.  So  there  I  was,  with 
no  one  to  meet  me,  and  it  was  night.  I  looked 
round  for  a  porter,  and  of  course  there  was  none. 
I  saw  a  rough-looking  man  leaning  against  the 
station-house,  and  said  to  him:  'My  man,  carry 
my  portmanteau  to  the  hotel,  please.' " 

The  pause  which  followed  was  so  long  that  I 
thought  the  story  ended,  or  that  the  narrator  had 
fallen  asleep.  But  I  was  mistaken — ^her  emo- 
tion choked  her.    Finally  one  of  the  others  said: 

"And  what  happened  then.^" 

In  a  sepulchral  tone  she  answered:  ''He  spat! 
Then,  without  a  word,  he  picked  up  the  bag  and 
led  the  way  to  the  hotel.  I  handed  him  a  shil- 
ling, and  instead  of  touching  his  cap — ^by  the  way, 
it  was  not  a  cap  at  all,  but  a  hat  with  a  huge 
brim — ^which,  if  you  please,  he  took  off  with  a 
flourish  and,  decUning  the  tip,  remarked:  'Always 
a  pleasure  to  help  a  lady!'  I  thought  I  should 
have  died  of  shame  at  his  insolence !" 

I  nearly  choked,  but  fortunately  did  not,  for 
every  one  else  was  shocked.  After  a  painful 
silence  Lady  Agatha  continued:  "I  must  say 
some  people  have  a  peculiar  sense  of  humor.  I 
told  this  shocking  story  to  Charhe  Beresford,  and 
he  laughed  tiU  the  tears  ran  down  his  face,  and 
asked  me  to  let  him  put  it  into  a  book  he  is  writ- 
ing on  America.  But  I  would  not  consent.  It 
[  132] 


DOWAGER  AND  COWBOY 


might  give  offense — Americans  are  very  sensitive 
— and  I  think  it  most  important  that  nothing 
should  be  done  to  cause  ill-feeling  between  the 
two  countries,  for,  as  Sir  George  was  saying  at 
dinner,  one  cannot  tell  how  soon  we  may  need 
one  another's  help." 

Here  Gertrude,  who  had  been  walking  on  the 
terrace  with  the  complacent  secretary,  came  in 
and  took  me  to  her  room  to  talk  about  the  blue- 
eyed  Guy. 

Now  you  see  why  I  do  not  want  John  to  see 
this  letter.  He  thinks  he  has  a  strong  sense  of 
himior,  but  it  is  ten  to  one  he  would  no  more 
understand  the  dowager  than  she  understood  the 
gentleman  in  the  sombrero.  How  I  should  like 
to  meet  Sir  Charles  Beresford  and  hear  him  on 
dowagers  and  cowboys ! 

But,  honestly,  are  not  the  Enghsh  the  most 
impossible  people!  I  do  not  mean  ridiculous — 
no  one  would  accuse  them  of  being  that — ^but 
funny  as  the  camel  is.  "There  ain't  no  sich 
animal.'*    Only  there  is  1 


[  133] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 


XXIV 

*'BY  PURENESS,  BY  KINDNESS,  BY  LOVE 
UNFEIGNED" 

Before  leaving  Shrewsbury  I  had  told  Ruth 
on  which  train  I  would  leave  Saltbridge,  and,  as 
I  had  to  change  trains  at  Manchester,  she  could 
send  a  wire  to  the  station  there  if  she  had  any 
special  orders  to  give  me.  The  wire  was  await- 
ing me,  and  from  it  I  found  that  not  only  had 
Ruth  gone  off  *'on  her  own"  to  Deepford,  but 
that  she  had  received  an  invitation  from  the 
Sanfords  asking  us  both  to  come  to  them.  She 
said  that  she  was  proceeding  to  London,  and  that 
she  would  go  to  the  Sanfords'  by  train,  and  hoped 
I  would  meet  her  there  with  the  car. 

So  I  returned  to  Shrewsbury,  where  we  had  left 
the  car,  and  the  next  day  drove  slowly  through 
Stratford-on-Avon,  where  I  had  been  before,  and 
so  did  not  stop,  waiting  till  Ruth  and  I  could 
make  the  pilgrimage  together.  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  spire  of  the  parish  church  and  could  "vis- 
ualize" the  smug  bust  in  the  chancel,  which  an 
ungrateful  town  permits  to  be  called  Shakespeare  I 

I  stopped  the  night  at  Banbury,  where  there  is 

one  of  those  old  coaching  inns  which  affect  the 

imagination  like  an  old  print.    The  following  day 

I  went  on  to  Oxford,  where  I  left  the  car,  and  ran 

[134] 


"BY  PURENESS,  BY  KINDNESS,  BY  LOVE" 

up  to  London  for  some  necessary  shopping. 
This,  I  know,  will  make  you  indignant,  but  I  am 
going  to  "do"  Oxford  when  Ruth,  that  lover  of 
"Lost  Causes,"  is  with  me.  Besides,  as  my  next 
journey  is  to  the  northeast,  it  was  better  to  leave 
the  car  at  Oxford  than  to  go  through  London. 

When  I  returned  to  Oxford  I  went  again  on  my 
way  and  spent  the  night  at  Ipswich,  in  the  same 
inn  in  which  Mr.  Pickwick  had  the  compromising 
adventure  with  the  lady  in  curl-papers.  But 
there  was  nothing  seen  to  recall  that  joyous  night. 
No  one  I  saw  looked  as  if  he  had  ever  heard  of 
the  most  distinguished  guest  the  inn  had  ever 
entertained ! 

The  next  day  I  reached  the  Sanfords'  for  tea. 
I  understand  now  why  the  heroine  in  an  English 
novel  always  arrives  at  tea-time !  It  is  the  ideal 
hour.  One  does  not  have  to  dress  for  a  function 
and  is  received  into  the  family  at  once. 

This  family  consists  of  but  two — the  husband 
and  wife — a  lovely  couple.  I  do  not  know  which 
of  them  we  loved  best  when  the  visit  was  over. 
An  ancestor  of  Mr.  Sanford's  was  one  of  the  non- 
jurors— and  that  night  I  lay  in  his  bed.  As  a  bed 
it  was  a  good  bed,  but  as  a  place  for  sleeping  it 
was  naught — as  Touchstone  would  have  said. 
As  I  lay  awake  I  thought  of  the  noble  folly  of  the 
non-jurors,  and  of  Macaulay's  unsympathetic 
picture  of  them,  though,  curiously  enough,  the 
[  135] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

only  time  he  speaks  well  of  a  bishop,  so  far  as  I 
remember,  is  when  he  praises  the  "seven  bish- 
ops." How  characteristic  this  is!  They  are 
admirable  when  they  defy  the  Stuart,  but  con- 
temptible when  they  refuse  to  bow  the  knee  to 
his  Dutch  hero!  These  thoughts  led  me  on  to 
Henry  Esmond — that  most  interesting  prig — and 
so  on,  hour  after  hour,  the  mind  wandered 
through  the  history  of  England  till  I  longed  for 
the  scenery  of  the  land  of  Nod ! 

I  would  not  have  you  think  that  my  wakeful- 
ness was  due  solely  to  the  imagination  awakened 
by  the  old  non-juror's  bed.  It  was  due  to  a 
more  modem  and  more  material  cause,  namely 
the  strong  Ceylon  tea,  which  was  so  good  that  I 
had  taken  more  than  I  am  accustomed  to.  What 
we  call  "Enghsh  Breakfast,"  the  English  call 
"China"  tea,  and,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes,  is 
seldom  served.  Certainly  it  could  not  have  been 
expected  in  this  house,  because  Mr.  Sanford  is 
largely  interested  in  the  cultivation  of  Ceylon 
tea  and,  not  unnaturally,  thinks  it  superior  to 
China.  It  is  undoubtedly  good,  but  so  strong 
that  it  is  apt  to  be  followed  by  a  sleepless  night 
on  the  part  of  the  uninitiated. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  which  began,  I  need 

not  say,  with  a  boimtiful  breakfast,  at  which,  of 

course,  we  served  ourselves,  Mr.  Sanford  walking 

around  the  room  with  a  httle  blue  bowl  in  his 

[  136] 


"BY  PURENESS,  BY  KINDNESS,  BY  LOVE" 

hand,  eating  porridge  and  talking  delightfully. 
By  the  way,  do  you  believe  the  story  of  the 
American  "Belle  Mere,"  who,  arriving  at  the 
castle  of  her  noble  son-in-law  late  at  night  and 
therefore  coming  to  the  dining-room  for  the  first 
time  at  breakfast,  and,  seeing  no  servants,  said  to 
her  daughter:  "Honey,  can't  you  get  no  'help'  at 
all  over  here  ?  "  I  do  not.  Ruth  does,  and  begged 
me  not  to  tell  the  story  here  lest  it  be  thought 
that  the  good  lady  was  typical ! 

I  do  not  think  Mrs.  Sanford  would  have  be- 
heved  it.  But,  if  she  had,  she  would  have  under- 
stood, for  she  has  many  American  friends  and  a 
more  sympathetic  understanding  of  our  problems 
than  any  one  I  have  so  far  met  in  England.  Mr. 
Sanford  was  rather  inclined  to  be  depressed  about 
England,  and  deplored  the  present  pohcy  of  the 
Liberal  Government — especially  in  regard  to  land. 
Of  course  I  know  nothing  about  the  matter,  but  I 
could  not  help  thinking  I  heard  a  faint  echo  of  the 
old  non-juror's  voice.  This,  however,  is  sure,  he 
is  the  quintessence  of  the  feudal  system  at  its 
best,  having  its  deep  sense  of  responsibiUty. 

We  walked  to  the  little  church,  which  is  at 
their  gate,  and  as  we  drew  near  and  met  the  peo- 
ple on  their  way  to  worship,  I  was  struck  by  the 
affection — so  much  better  than  perfunctory  re- 
spect— with  which  my  hosts  were  greeted  both  by 
farmers  and  tenants  ahke. 
[137] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

Mr.  Sanford  showed  Ruth  and  me  into  the 
second  pew  in  the  transept,  while  he  and  his  wife 
occupied  the  one  in  front  of  it,  which  is  the 
squire's.  He  read  the  lessons,  and  I  wished  I 
could  read  as  weU !  I  once  heard  a  distinguished 
minister  at  home  praised  for  his  reading  of  the 
Bible  because  it  "sounded  so  modern — as  if  he 
were  reading  the  morning  paper."  Well,  his  read- 
ing was  not  in  the  least  like  that !  He  read  with 
deep  reverence,  as  "The  covenant  made  with  our 
fathers"  and  now  dehvered  unto  us. 

The  rector,  a  cousin  of  our  host's,  was  indis- 
posed, and  his  place  was  taken  by  a  near-by  vicar. 
The  sermon  had  neither  the  interest  of  the  morn- 
ing paper  nor  the  awe  of  an  ancient  revelation ! 
Indeed,  it  was  a  stupid  thing,  which  I  guessed 
was  one  of  those  which,  it  is  said,  can  be  bought 
"ready  made,"  and  of  any  shade  of  churchman- 
ship.    This  one  had  no  color  at  all ! 

The  preacher  was  invited  to  dine  with  the 
squire  and  accepted.  He  must  be  a  survival. 
He  explained  the  dilB&culty  the  country  parson 
has  in  collecting  his  tithes.  Turning  to  his  host, 
he  said:  "I  had  a  most  disagreeable  task  last 
week;  Scroston  was  in  arrears  again,  and  I  had 
to  distrain  his  cow." 

Mr.  Sanford  looked  much  distressed,  and  said: 
"I  don't  think  I  should  have  done  that." 

"Neither  should  I,  had  it  been  a  personal  mat- 
[  138] 


"BY  PURENESS,  BY  KINDNESS,  BY  LOVE" 

ter;  but  one  must  consider  one's  successor.  If  a 
precedent  were  once  established,  it  might  lead  to 
much  trouble."  And  to  this  there  seemed  to  be 
no  reply ! 

After  dinner,  when  the  neighboring  parson  had 
left,  Mr.  Sanford  suggested  a  "look  round."  Ruth 
said  she  had  some  letters  to  write,  which  in  Eng- 
land means  a  nap,  so  we  started  oflf  together.  In 
my  ignorance  I  supposed  a  "look  round"  meant 
a  stroll  about  the  place.  I  soon  found  it  meant 
something  more  like  what  we  call  a  "hike." 

There  is  a  wide-spread  impression  among  Ameri- 
cans that  England  is  a  small  place.  Let  any  one 
go  with  an  Enghsh  gentleman  after  a  good  Sunday 
dinner,  for  a  "look  round,"  and  I  venture  to  say 
he  will  change  his  mind  I  I  suppose  I  am  "soft" 
from  motoring,  but  I  know  I  was  "all  in"  when 
we  at  length  reached  home.  But  my  host,  no 
longer  a  young  man,  seemed  as  fresh  as  when  we 
started. 

He  had  been  much  amused  by  my  attempts  to 
make  up  to  a  farmer,  whom  we  met — also  "taking 
a  look  round."  We  were  crossing  a  beautiful 
field,  in  which  were  some  noble  oaks  whose  wide- 
spread branches  cast  so  deep  a  shadow  that  it 
looked  black,  and,  by  way  of  making  myself  agree- 
able, I  remarked  to  him:  "I  have  been  telling  Mr. 
Sanford  how  much  I  admire  your  trees.  You 
must  be  proud  of  them." 

[139] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"Aye,  they  look  well  to  a  town  dweller,  but  I 
never  notice  them  except  at  hayin',  and  then  I 
wish  they  was  anywhere  else." 

"But  you  turn  your  cattle  into  this  field  some- 
times, I  suppose,  and  they  must  enjoy  the  shade 
on  a  hot  day." 

"Well,  if  they  stand  under  one  of  them  on  a 
hot  day,  they'll  be  in  a  draft,  and  get  a  chiU,  and 
maybe  die." 

This  certainly  was  not  encouraging,  but  I  did 
not  know  enough  to  stop.  Just  then  some  heifers 
came  nosing  around,  and  I  said:  "That's  a 
beautiful  heifer." 

"Which  one.^"  said  the  farmer. 

"The  white  one,"  said  I. 

"I  wish  you  lived  about  here  and  I  could  sell 
her  to  you.     No  farmer  would  buy  her." 

"Whynot.3"saidI. 

"We  think  the  white  ones  is  'saft,'"  he  rephed. 

This,  as  I  say,  gave  great  satisfaction  to  Mr. 
Sanford,  who  recounted  it  at  tea  with  great  gusto. 

The  servants  all  went  to  evening  service,  but 
the  family  did  not,  so  I  "wrote  letters"  I 

Supper  was  served  at  nine  o'clock,  and  then  all 
the  servants  came  in  for  prayers — "cook"  first, 
and  the  kitchen-maid  last,  the  butler  standing 
aside  to  close  the  door,  and  then  solemnly  taking 
his  place. 

Mr.  Sanford  read  a  chapter,  and  after  that  a 
[  140  1 


"BY  PURENESS,  BY  KINDNESS,  BY  LOVE" 

beautiful  prayer  that  all  might  be  faithful  in  their 
duties,  kind,  and  considerate  to  one  another, 
honor  the  King  and  love  the  church.  Then  Mrs. 
Sanford  took  her  place  at  the  harmonium  and 
played  several  hymns,  in  which  all  the  servants 
joined — I  thought  the  footman's  tenor  worthy  of 
a  church  choir,  and  I  suspect  he  thought  so  too ! 
and  I  am  sure  the  housemaid  agreed  with  us 
both !    Altogether  the  singing  was  beautiful. 

When  the  service  was  over,  Mr.  Sanford  said, 
very  simply:  "My  friends,  we  have  now  come  to 
the  beginning  of  another  week,  and  I  wish  to 
thank  you  aU  for  faithful  service.  If,  at  any  time 
I  have  been  impatient  with  any  of  you,  I  ask  your 
forgiveness.    And  now  I  bid  you  all  good  night." 

The  butler  showed  them  all  out,  looking  at  the 
footman,  I  thought,  as  much  as  to  say:  "Have  you 
any  complaint  to  make  about  the  master  ?  If  so, 
kindly  address  yourself  to  me!"  As  for  me,  I 
confess  I  had  a  "lump"  in  my  throat. 

As  we  drove  away  next  morning,  Ruth  said: 
"I  suppose  by  this  time  you  have  become  a 
Tory!" 

"No,"  I  said,  "not  quite,  but  if  you  ever  hear 
me  say  a  word  against  England  again  say  'San- 
ford,' and  I  will  cry  'Peccavi.'  How  cheap  and 
self-conscious  democracy  seems  after  this  gUmpse 
of  English  gentle  people.  Where  can  their  like 
be  found?" 

[  141  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

XXV 

THE  COUNTY  FAMILIES 

John  should  be  writing  this,  but  he  says  he  is 
tired.  I  am  sure  he  must  be.  But  there  is  an- 
other reason,  which  is  that  he  is  cross,  poor  dear, 
and  you,  no  doubt,  will  think  with  good  reason 
when  you  hear  what  he  has  been  through. 

On  leaving  Sharrow — the  Sanfords'  place — we 
drove  to  the  village  where  still  stands  the  inn 
known  as  "The  Maypole"  in  "Barnaby  Rudge." 
Wilht  is  dead,  and  I  saw  nothing  as  attractive  as 
Dolly  Varden,  nor  anything  as  horrible,  I  am 
thankful  to  say,  as  Hugh.  In  other  words,  we 
felt  as  Thackeray  says  he  felt  when  he  visited 
Tours — it  had  none  of  the  charm  which  he  had 
expected  after  reading  "Quentin  Durward" ! 

I  urged  John  to  leave  the  car  at  the  Maypole 
and  go  to  town  by  train,  for  I  knew  it  would  be 
an  exhausting  experience  to  drive  through  the 
city.  But  no.  He  was  determined  to  see  if  he 
was  enough  of  a  chauffeur  to  accomplish  a  feat 
which  tries  the  nerve  of  a  professional!  So  we 
started. 

The  road  led  us  to  the  east  side  of  the  city, 

which   we  entered  with  the  late  market-carts. 

No  words  can  describe  the  congestion.     It  was 

not  only  the  innumerable  wagons  of  every  descrip- 

[142] 


THE  COUNTY  FAMILIES 


tion  which  made  progress  ahnost  impossible,  but 
the  swanns  of  creatures  which  I  suppose  one 
must  call  *' human,"  though  there  was  Uttle  indi- 
cation of  their  humanity  except  the  power  of 
speech,  and  when  one  had  heard  that,  one  was 
tempted  to  wish  they  were  without  it !  There  are 
veritably  two  Englands,  the  one  we  had  just  left, 
of  green  fields  and  clear  brooks  and  kind  hearts 
and  noble  deeds,  and  now  this  sink  of  iniquity. 
There  is  nothing  in  New  York  to  compare  with  it, 
for,  shocking  as  our  tenement-house  district  is, 
one  is  comforted  by  the  thought  that  it  is  tem- 
porary, that  there  is  an  upward  trend,  and  that 
the  children  of  the  tenements — almost  exclusively 
of  foreign-born  parentage — are  destined  to  escape. 
But  these  poor  creatures  are  predestined  to  "dam- 
nation" before  they  are  born.  There  is  all  the 
difference  between  the  East  Side  of  New  York 
and  the  East  End  of  London  that  there  is  between 
a  stream  which  has  been  defiled  by  the  drainage 
of  factories,  but  which  will  purify  itself  after  it 
has  flowed  a  certain  number  of  miles,  and  a 
malarial  swamp,  whose  stagnant  waters  have  no 
power  of  movement  and,  therefore,  no  hope  of 
cleansing,  but  will  breed  sickness  from  genera- 
tion to  generation.  This  is  the  reverse  of  the 
medal  inscribed  "As  it  was  in  the  beginning,"  etc. 
Through  this  seething  mass,  then,  we  made 
our  way  into  White  Chapel,  the  nursery  of  crime, 
[  143] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

into  Cannon  Street,  where  the  great  wholesale 
houses  distribute  the  wealth  of  the  empire,  and 
where  the  great  dray-horses,  almost  as  large  as 
elephants,  block  the  way,  past  St.  Paul's,  the 
silent  witness  to  a  faith  which  the  life  around 
seems  to  have  forgotten — if  it  ever  heard  of  it ! — 
into  Holbom,  with  its  restaurants  and  shops  and 
law-courts,  and  at  last  into  Leicester  Square,  with 
its  foreign  population  and  its  palatial  music- 
halls. 

It  has  taken  but  a  few  moments  to  write  this, 
but  it  took  hours  to  drive  it,  and  I  confess  when 
it  was  over  I  felt  Kke  the  Irishman  in  the  bottom- 
less Sedan  chair:  "If  it  wasn't  for  the  honor  of 
the  thing,  I'd  as  hef  walk."  I  had  the  good  sense 
not  to  ask  John  how  he  felt.  I  could  tell  by  look- 
ing at  him:  his  face  was  white  and  drawn. 

Before  we  started  from  the  Maypole,  John  had 
suggested  wiring  to  the  "Holland"  for  rooms, 
but  I  induced  him  to  come  here — "Garvin's 
Private  Hotel" — ^instead,  and  now  I  wish  I  had 
not  I 

The  Slocums  had  advised  me  to  come  here 
rather  than  to  one  of  the  great  caravansaries,  which 
they  said  are  so  "Cooksy."  They  told  me  that 
they  always  stopped  here,  and  that  I  should  like 
the  class  of  people  one  meets  here — the  county 
families — and  also  that  one  received  that  personal 
attention  which  formerly  made  English  hotels 
[  144  ] 


THE  COUNTY  FAMILIES 


unique,  and  which  Americans  and  Germans  were 
kiUing. 

Well,  I  found  it  good  enough.  The  bedrooms 
may  have  been  dingy — to  speak  the  truth  they 
were — ^but  the  maid  was  pleasant  and  efficient,  and 
the  dinner,  if  not  exciting,  was  palatable.  But 
John  said  it  "had  nothing  on  a  Lexington  Avenue 
boarding-house."  The  truth  is,  he  was  tired  out, 
and  vexed  because  a  telegram,  which  he  had  ex- 
pected to  find  here,  had  not  arrived. 

The  next  day  he  went  to  the  manager,  and  an 
investigation  was  begun  which  led  to  the  dis- 
covery that  the  telegram,  which  had  arrived  the 
day  before,  was  in  the  porters'  rack!  It  seems 
that  Garvin's  has  doors  on  two  streets,  and  the 
porter  of  the  door  by  which  we  did  not  enter  had 
received  it.  When  John  asked  why  it  had  not 
been  sent  to  his  room,  he  was  informed,  first,  that 
no  one  had  told  that  porter  that  we  were  in  the 
house,  and,  second,  that  telegrams  were  sent  only 
to  private  sitting-rooms!  I  don't  know  which 
excuse  made  him  the  more  angry.  It  was  then 
he  made  his  remark  about  the  Lexington  Avenue 
boarding-house.  Not  that  he  knows  anything 
about  them,  for  he  has  never  stayed  in  one  in  his 
life,  but  because  it  was  the  first  thing  he  thought 
of.  It  was  an  example  of  what  I  once  heard  you 
call  "the  universe  of  discourse."  But,  "you 
bet,"  I  didn't  tell  him  so ! 
[145] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

At  dinner  John  looked  round  the  dreary  dining- 
room  and  asked  where  were  the  "county  fami- 
lies"? 

I  also  was  feeling  the  strain  of  the  day,  and  said 
"I  hoped  to  meet  them  later." 

He  repHed  he  hoped  he  might  be  out  when  they 
called. 

By  this  time  I  was  well-nigh  desperate,  and  sug- 
gested that  he  go  outside  and  smoke  his  cigar  in 
the  street,  for  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
"Smoke  Room,"  which  looks  out  on  a  mews, 
and  is  more  like  a  dog-kennel  than  a  room,  and  I 
did  not  feel  I  could  stand  any  more  remarks 
about  "private  hotels" !  Entre  nous,  I  advise 
you  never  to  go  to  one.  I  have  no  doubt  if  you 
were  a  "county  family,"  and  came  up  every  year 
as  your  father  had  done  before  you,  and  took  the 
"first  floor  front,"  with  a  private  sitting-room, 
they  would  "do  you  well."  But  it  is  no  place  for 
transients. 

As  we  had  no  sitting-room,  I  went  to  the  dreary 
parlor  to  read  and,  if  possible,  to  quiet  my  mind 
before  going  to  bed.  But  instead  of  reading,  I 
began  to  think  of  John,  and  the  more  I  thought 
of  him  the  sadder  I  grew.  I  know  no  one  who 
bears  the  great  troubles  of  life  more  patiently  than 
he,  but  a  petty  thing,  like  this  telegram,  poisons 
him  as  the  black  flies  poisoned  me  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks!  They  only  bite  most  people,  but  they 
[  146] 


THE  COUNTY  FAMILIES 


send  me  to  bed  with  a  temperature!  And  the 
worst  of  it  is  he  suffers  such  remorse  after  one  of 
these  attacks.  Why  should  we  laugh  at  Mrs. 
Gummage?  There  are  people  who  "feel  it  more 
than  others."  However,  I  reflected  that  there 
was  nothing  I  could  do  about  it,  and  so  turned  to 
my  book. 

It  was  one  of  those  dreary  books  of  Benson's, 
which  are  conducive  to  intellectual  and  moral  in- 
digestion— wallowing  in  imaginary  emotions — and 
I  did  not  see  how  I  could  read  it  in  the  frame  of 
mind  I  was  then  in.  But  I  did  not  have  to,  for  I 
was  suddenly  startled  by  a  voice  saying:  "If 
you  won't  think  me  rude,  I  should  like  to  know 
where  you  got  that  hat?" 

My  first  thought  was  that  Garvin's  was  another 
sort  of  private  institution,  but  peering  into  the 
dim  comer,  I  saw  a  typical  "county  family,"  or 
rather  the  head  of  one.  He  was  a  hale  and  hearty 
old  man,  somewhat  over  sixty,  and  had  the  ruddy 
complexion  which  only  Enghsh  country  Ufe  can 
give.  I  saw  he  was  not  dangerous,  and  also  that 
he  was  unquestionably  a  "gentleman,"  so  I  re- 
plied: "I  am  glad  you  like  it.  I  got  it  at  Bonwit 
Teller's." 

"I  don't  know  the  shop,"  he  said,  in  a  disap- 
pointed tone. 

"Well,  that  is  not  surprising,  for  it  is  in  New 
York." 

[  147  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"Really !  And  are  you  an  American?  I  never 
should  have,"  etc. 

"Did  you  want  a  hat  like  this  for  yourself?"  I 
demurely  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  say !  Now  you  are  trying  to  pull  my  leg.'* 

I  looked  at  the  solid  limb  in  question,  and  as- 
sured him  I  had  no  such  purpose. 

"No,  I  didn't  want  it  for  myself.  The  truth 
is,  I  saw  you  at  dinner — ^by  the  way,  why  do  they 
call  that  leather  they  served  to-night  'mutton'? 
I  wonder  if  they  have  ever  tasted  mutton  ?  Awful 
food  they  give  one  at  these  hotels  nowadays! 
Poison,  I  call  it !  I  always  stop  at  my  club  when 
I  come  up  to  town,  but  this  time  I  have  my  wife 
and  daughter  with  me.  Couldn't  take  them  to 
the  club,  of  course,  so  came  here.  Family  been 
coming  here  forever,  I  should  say;  came  when  the 
father  of  this  man  had  it.  This  man  married  the 
French  maid,  and  she  has  put  on  the  table  a  lot  of 
kickshaws,  and  calls  them  a  'menu.*  Silly  stuff. 
There  was  no  such  nonsense  in  the  father's  time. 
One  just  called  the  waiter  and  said,  'What's  the 
joint  ? '  and  that  was  all  there  was  to  it.  But,  as 
I  was  saying,  I  saw  you  at  dinner,  and  said  to  my 
daughter:  'That's  a  deuced  pretty -looking  girl 
over  there,  and  I  wish  you  had  a  hat  Hke  her's.' 
You  don't  mind  my  teUing  you  this?  Wouldn't 
do  for  a  young  man,  but  an  old  man  has  his  privi- 
leges." 

[  148  ] 


THE  COUNTY  FAMILIES 


I  assured  hiiu  I  was  flattered,  and  the  simple- 
hearted  old  squire  replied:  "Not  at  all.  The 
simple  truth." 

I  was  rather  confused  at  this  and,  not  quite 
thinking  what  I  was  saying,  asked  what  his 
daughter  said. 

"'Why,'  she  said,  'if  you  admire  the  lady's 
hat,  you  had  better  ask  her  where  she  got  it.' 
And,  by  George,  I  said  I  would,  never  dreaming, 
you  understand,  that  I  should  really  ever  speak 
to  you. 

"You  see,  they  have  gone  to  the  play,  but  as  I 
have  taken  a  cold,  something  I  never  have  at 
home,  I  thought  I  would  stop  in  and  write  some 
letters.  But  the  fire  in  my  sitting-room  (though 
it  is  August,  the  evenings  are  chill)  smokes  so  I 
came  in  here,  and  no  sooner  got  settled  down  than 
I  heard  some  one  come  in  and,  looking  round,  saw 
it  was  you.  Matilda  will  be  surprised  when  she 
learns  that  I  have  asked  about  the  hat."  And  he 
chuckled  to  himself  at  the  thought. 

I  turned  again  to  my  book  but  the  old  man  was 
not  done  with  me.  "So  you  are  an  American. 
Is  it  true  that  Americans  have  baths  in  their 
drawing-rooms  ?'' 

"I  have  never  seen  one  there,  but  as  they  have 
them  generally  about  the  house,  I  should  not  be 
surprised." 

"Oh,  you  must  not  take  me  too  seriously,"  he 
[  149  1 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

said  in  a  sorrowful  tone;  "  I  was  only  ragging  you 
a  bit  I" 

I  laughed,  not,  I  fear,  with,  but  at,  the  simple 
old  soul. 

"I  have  never  understood  this  craze  for  bath- 
rooms myself,"  he  continued;    "I   think  it  far 
more  comfortable  to  have  the  maid  bring  the  tub 
into  the  room  at  the  same  time  she  draws  the 
curtains  and  lights  the  fire,  for  then  one  takes 
one's  bath  in  comfort,  rather  than  go  into  a  cold 
closet.    Nor  do  I  like  to  he  down  in  a  tub.     It 
makes  me  feel  as  if  I  were  ill — at  Harrowgate  or 
some  such  place,  don't  you  know.    More  than 
that,  I  suspect  there  is  a  lot  of  talk  about  bathing 
that  does   not   amount   to   much.    There   is   a 
daughter  of  one  of  my  tenants  who  went  as 
housemaid  to  one  of  the  great  hotels  in  Chicago 
— the  Blackamoor,  I  think  it  is  called.    She  came 
home  to  visit  her  mother  a  year  ago,  and  I  asked 
her  if  it  were  true  that  many  rooms  had  private 
baths.     She  said  that  every  room  in  the  place 
had  its  own  bathroom,  and  that  the  very  bag- 
men, if  you  please,  would  swagger  in  and  say, 
'Room  with  bath,'  but  that  days  would  go  by 
without  their  being  used !    Just  ordered  them  to 
put  on  side.    She  is  a  very  shrewd  girl,  and  she 
explained  to  me  why  it  was  that  Americans  have 
so  many  bathrooms.    She  said  the  ladies  insisted 
upon  it  because  they  did  not  wish  to  be  seen 
[  150] 


THE  BOAT-RACE 


going  along  the  passages  in  the  flannel  gowns  they 
all  wear.  She  said  if  they  had  handsome 
bath-robes,  such  as  English  ladies  wear,  they 
would  not  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  going  to  the 
bath." 

Don't  you  think  that  girl  earned  a  good  tip.^ 
But  perhaps  you,  Uke  my  garrulous  old  friend, 
will  think  I  am  trying  to  "pull  your  leg,"  but  I 
give  you  my  word  it  is  all  true.  I  am  not  sure 
whether  you  will  say  "Aren't  they  the  limit .^" 
or  "Can  you  beat  it.^"    I  said  both  I 

John  came  in  in  a  penitent  mood,  as  I  knew  he 
would,  and  brought  me  a  superb  bunch  of  roses — 
a  sort  of  "sin-offering."  What  should  I  have 
done  had  I  married  a  saint  I 


XXVI 

THE  BOAT-RACE 

I  THINK  Ruth  has  written  you  about  our  stay 
in  London,  so  I  will  say  nothing  about  it  except 
to  advise  you  to  avoid  "private  hotels."  Ruth 
has  so  many  fine  qualities  that  there  must  be 
some  flaws  or  she  would  not  be  long  with  us  I 
One  of  them  is  this:  If  a  person  of  whom  she  is 
fond  advised  her  to  go  to — well,  I  won't  say  itl 
[151] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

no  argument  would  have  any  effect  upon  her.  She 
would  wish  to  start  at  once !  Well,  that  is  over 
for  the  time,  so  let  us  forget  it. 

By  good  chance  we  met  the  Ingrams  from  Boston 
at  the  hotel,  and  they  told  us,  what  any  porter  at 
a  real  hotel  would  have  known,  that  the  race 
between  Harvard  and  Cambridge  was  to  take 
place  that  day,  so  we  started  early  in  the  car  to 
get  a  good  place  on  the  river-bank.  We  drew  up 
near  Mortlake,  where  there  is  a  bend  in  the  river, 
and  which,  I  was  told,  was  the  best  place  because 
the  leading  boat  at  that  spot  has  seldom,  if  ever, 
been  passed. 

It  was  one  of  those  perfect  days  which  redeems 
the  English  climate,  and  shows  that  the  poets 
must  have  had  some  experience  of  heavenly 
weather,  and  not,  as  the  cynics  on  our  side  of  the 
water  have  suggested,  imagined  the  weather 
which  they  describe !  The  river  was  a  sight  not 
soon  to  be  forgotten.  There  were  hundreds  of 
punts  on  the  river  and  more  pretty  girls  and  stal- 
wart young  men  than  could  be  assembled  in  any 
other  country  in  the  world,  I  suppose.  All  of 
those  were  not  on  their  way  to  the  boat-race, 
however,  but  were  the  usual  Saturday  crowd  "out 
for  a  good  time."  We  saw  scores  of  punts  tied 
up  to  the  trees  on  the  river-bank,  in  which  the 
girls  were  busy  making  tea,  and  the  boys,  clad  in 
white  flannels,  were  smoking  their  brierwoods.  I 
[  152] 


THE  BOAT-RACE 


suppose  there  was  the  usual  amount  of  sentiment 
but  it  was  not  in  evidence.  Indeed,  both  girls 
and  boys  seemed  keen  for  tea ! 

The  right  bank  of  the  river  was  lined  with 
motors,  while  the  path  through  the  meadows  on 
the  opposite  side  was  crowded  with  those  who  had 
come  from  town  on  buses  and  trams,  and  were 
now  running  along  the  bank,  seeking  the  best 
places  from  which  to  view  the  struggle.  But  how 
a  race  could  be  rowed  on  that  river  was  more  than 
I  could  guess.  One  could  not  have  moved  a  skiff 
through  the  mass  of  boats  which  crowded  it  from 
bank  to  bank.  Yet  nothing  was  done  to  clear 
the  course.  I  feared  a  foul.  But  just  before  the 
time  for  starting,  a  Httle  motor-boat  shot  out  from 
the  bank,  and  without  any  blowing  of  whistles  or 
shouting  or  confusion  of  any  sort,  but  apparently 
in  answer  to  the  simple  request  of  the  official 
standing  in  the  bow  of  the  launch,  boats  and  punts 
disappeared,  as  if  by  magic,  and  in  a  twinkling 
the  course  was  clear!  I  thought  with  shame  of 
what  would  be  seen  at  home  in  like  conditions — 
the  noise  and  bullying,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
overflowing  of  the  course  as  soon  as  the  backs  of 
the  pohce  were  turned !  But  this  was  a  striking 
exhibition  at  once  of  the  law-abiding  spirit  of  the 
English  and  the  equal  respect  of  individual  rights. 
For,  as  I  have  said,  the  liberty  of  the  individual 
was  respected  up  to  the  last  moment,  and  then 
[153] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

the  crowd  willingly  conceded  the  rights  of  the 
community. 

Half  New  York  seemed  to  be  there,  and  one 
heard  the  shrill  voices  of  our  charming  com- 
patriots as  the  word  was  passed  along:  "They 
are  off!" 

The  betting  was  in  favor  of  the  English  crew, 
and  when  the  boats  appeared  around  the  bend 
of  the  river,  it  was  easy  to  see  why  it  should 
have  been. 

Harvard   had    the   outside — slightly   longer — 
course,  but  even  so,  it  was  evident  that  they  were 
outclassed.    Better  form  I  never  saw  than  Har- 
vard showed.    The  men  moved  like  a  machine. 
There  was  no  splashing  and  no  sound  was  heard 
as  the  boat  swept  by.    Not  so  Cambridge:   the 
water  was  churned  as  if  with  a  screw,  and  there 
was  much  shouting.     It  may  have  been  only  the 
voice  of  the  coxswain,  but  I  thought  I  distinguished 
several  voices,  but  the  boat  moved,  or,  rather,  it 
seemed  to  leap,  after  each  stroke,  while  the  Har- 
vard shell  seemed  to  settle  and  wait  after  each 
stroke  for  the  next.    Just  as  they  passed  us  Har- 
vard spurted,  and  a  gallant  effort  it  was,  but  too 
late,  and  Cambridge  shot  under  the  Mortlake 
bridge,  nearly  two  lengths  ahead.    Then  I  heard 
what  I  had  never  heard  before — and  what  I  sup- 
pose cannot  be  heard  out  of  England — the  roar  of 
a  great  multitude.    Our  college  yells  seemed  thin 
[154] 


THE  BOAT-RACE 


in  comparison — the  silence  settled  down,  and  the 
river  was  filled  again  with  the  little  boats,  which 
had  scuttled  to  the  banks  to  let  the  racers  go  by. 

We  went  on  our  way  wondering  why  it  was  that 
no  amateur  American  crew  had  ever  beaten  an 
Enghsh  one  in  a  four-mile  race.  When  the  car 
was  blocked  by  a  mass  of  motors  a  little  distance 
above  the  bridge,  a  punt  floated  slowly  by,  and 
a  nice-looking  lad  called  out  to  me:  "Which 
won.^"  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  he,  less 
than  a  mile  from  the  finish,  did  not  know  the  re- 
sult, when  crowds  were  at  that  moment  reading 
the  bulletins  in  Times  Square  and  men  were  dis- 
cussing it  in  the  clubs  in  Hong  Kong. 

So,  thinking  he  was  "pulling  my  leg,"  I  an- 
swered "Harvard." 

"  Hard  luck,"  was  all  he  said,  as  his  punt  slipped 
quickly  by. 

I  was  therefore  considerably  startled  when  a 
man  in  the  car  next  ours  remarked,  in  an  in- 
dignant tone: 

"  You  had  no  right  to  say  that.  You  know  it  is 
not  true!" 

"Why,"  I  replied,  "so  did  he." 

"Not  at  all,  or  he  would  not  have  asked." 

"Well,  I  am  sorry;  I  supposed  he  was  poking 
fun  at  me." 

But  this  only  made  matters  worse.  For  he 
now  shouted: 

[155] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"You  had  no  right  to  assume  that.  The  lad 
was  evidently  a  gentleman  and  would  not  have 
been  guilty  of  such  an  unsportsmanlike  thing." 

By  this  time  I  felt  as  if  I  had  poisoned  the 
favorite  for  the  Derby,  and  in  desperation  said: 

"WeU,  after  all,  no  great  harm  was  done." 

"That  is  more  than  you  know,"  replied  this 
uncompromising  individual;  "he  may  have  had 
something  on  it  I" 

Now  I  felt  as  if  I  had  picked  the  lad's  pocket, 
and  did  what  any  pickpocket  would  do,  escaped 
as  soon  as  possible ! 

We  drove  to  Maidenhead  for  tea  and  had  the 
good  luck  to  find  there  the  Siegels.  I  don't  think 
you  know  them.  He  is  one  of  the  so-called 
"Pittsburgh  crowd" — ^inventor  of  a  patent  car- 
seat  or  something  of  the  sort — and  has  made  a 
mint  of  money.  I  have  been  told  that  in  Pitts- 
burgh he  is  called  "Chilled  Steel" !  Well,  he  is 
anything  but  that  when  one  meets  him  away  from 
business.    He  overflows  with  kindness  and  fun. 

After  cordial  greetings  I  told  him  of  my  experi- 
ence on  the  towing-path,  and  he  was  greatly 
amused. 

"But,"  he  said,  with  mock  solemnity,  "you 
ought  to  have  known  better  than  to  monkey  with 
sport  in  England.  It  is  their  religion.  It  was 
like  crying  'To  Hell  with  the  Pope'  on  St.  Pat- 
rick's Day." 

[  156  1 


THE  BOAT-RACE 


I  said  it  was  too  bad  Harvard  was  beaten. 

"What  did  you  expect?"  he  asked,  and  then: 
"Did  you  have  much  on  it?" 

"Nothing  but  interest,"  I  replied. 

"That's  where  you  are  ahead  of  me,"  he  said. 
"I  had  some  capital  on  it!" 

"Did  you  expect  Harvard  to  win?" 

"Who,  I?  Not  in  a  thousand  years;  but  just 
to  cheer  the  boys  up  a  bit  I  put  a  few  pounds  on 
them.  Well,  it's  all  gone,  but  I  guess  I'll  charge 
it  up  to  the  'Charity  Fund,'  and  so  have  a  few 
coppers  left  for  a  cigar  after  dinner." 

"No,"  he  said,  speaking  seriously  for  a  moment, 
"  I  went  down  to  the  Harvard  quarters  yesterday 
to  see  Tom  Burch's  son,  who  is  in  the  crew,  and, 
say,  I  hadn't  been  there  five  minutes  when  all 
the  *pep'  began  to  ooze  out  of  me.  Those  boys 
have  been  training  for  three  weeks  in  this  muggy 
climate,  and  it  has  sapped  'em.  I  don't  say  they 
could  have  won,  anyway,  for  I  understand  that 
that  Cambridge  bunch  is  a  hard  proposition — one 
of  the  best  crews  they  have  turned  out  in  years — 
but  they  might  just  as  well  have  given  our  boys 
a  dose  of  bromide  every  morning  before  breakfast 
as  to  train  them  in  the  Thames  valley.  If  I  had 
the  handling  of  a  crew  over  here,  I'd  put  them  on 
the  river  the  day  before  the  race,  so  as  to  learn 
their  way  through  this  winding  creek  they  call 
a  river,  and  the  next  dav  I'd  call  the  race,  while 
[157] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

those  boys  still  had  some  U.  S.  ozone  m  them. 
Well,  it's  all  in  the  family,"  he  continued,  "and 
it  will  serve  as  a  set-ofif  to  the  cup  races  and  the 
polo  games,  and  as  long  as  it  was  not  a  German 
crew  that  won,  I  don't  much  care."  I  saw  by 
the  twitching  of  his  hps  that  there  was  a  story 
coming,  and  was  not  disappointed.  But  it  is 
too  long  for  this  letter,  and  so  will  have  to  be 
given  in  my  next. 


XXVII 
THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE 

"Mr.  Siegel,"  I  said,  when  tea  was  finished 
and  we  had  hghted  his  cigars,  "I  thought  you 
were  'German.'" 

"You  did,  hey.^  Well,  I'm  German  the  same 
way  you  are  English!  My  grandfather  was  a 
real  German,  but  they  ran  him  out  in  '48,  and  he 
went  over  with  Schurz  and  the  rest  of  that  band, 
and  if  you  can  find  better  Americans  than  their 
descendants,  I  do  not  know  where  they  are.  The 
German  of  to-day  is  another  creature,  and  I  want 
nothing  to  do  with  him.  Those  people  £U'e  the 
limit;  'verboten'  this  and  ^verboten'  that,  till  a 
man  doesn't  dare  do  anything  without  asking 
the  poHceman  if  he  may.  Women  have  to  stand 
in  the  gutter  till  an  oiBficer  goes  by.  Why,  when 
[  158] 


THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE 


we  were  in  Berlin  one  of  them  would  have  run 
Maria  through  with  his  sword  if  I  hadn't  told 
him  I  was  a  friend  of  the  Kaiser." 

"Jim,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Siegel,  "how  you  do 
talk !  You  know  he  never  touched  me,  and  you 
never  spoke  to  the  Kaiser!" 

"Well,  he  didn't  know  it  I  And  moreover,  as 
I  am  a  friend  of  Carnegie — now  that  he  has  gone 
out  of  business — and  had  on  a  good  suit  of  clothes, 
and  so  looked  as  if  I  could  lend  money  to  his 
boss,  he  believed  it  was  true,  and  so  let  you  live. 
Oh,  I  can  manage  the  army  all  right,  it  is  the 
custom-house  officer  who  'gets  my  goat.'  I  un- 
derstand how  to  deal  with  the  American  breed, 
but  I  am  helpless  with  those  fellows.  However,  I 
have  got  things  fixed  now,  so  that  if  we  ever  have 
to  go  back  there,  it  will  not  be  as  bad  as  it  was 
at  Frankfort." 

"What  happened  at  Frankfort?"  I  asked. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you.  My  doctor  at  home 
wanted  to  go  to  Canada  for  the  fishing,  and  fear- 
ing a  competitor  would  get  his  business  away 
from  him,  told  me  to  go  to  Carlsbad  and  get  a 
good  soak.  When  I  had  finished  with  the  prune 
pure,  the  veal  and  the  water,  I  started  for  Frank- 
fort to  meet  Maria,  who  had  been  at  St.  Moritz. 
She  had  the  usual  twenty-one  trunks,  and  I 
asked  for  the  keys  and  began  to  open  them — 
getting  one  key  in  five  right,  accusing  the  French 
[  159] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

maid  of  having  lost  some  of  them,  and  getting  the 
usual  French  change  in  reply. 

"Well,  sir,  if  a  man  is  looking  for  a  sweat  he 
has  no  need  to  go  to  Carlsbad,  let  him  try  to  open 
his  wife's  trunks  while  a  German  pig  in  uniform 
looks  on !  When  you  tell  him  you  can't  find  one 
key,  but  it  is  the  one  for  the  soiled-clothes  bag, 
and  he  says  that  is  the  one  he  most  wants  to  see, 
you  are  '  up  against  it.' 

"  I  should  have  had  a  fit  in  a  few  minutes,  I  be- 
lieve, if  I  had  not  caught  sight  of  Charhe  Wilson 
at  the  other  end  of  the  shed,  trying  to  get  his 
wife's  trunks  open.  But  he  was  not  showing  the 
same  patience  and  dignity  as  I  was.  His  lan- 
guage w£is  something  awful.  He  fiirst  told  the 
maid  he  had  given  her  the  key  to  the  hat-box, 
and  she  said  he  hadn't.  Then  he  said  he  had 
given  it  to  his  wife,  and  she  said  he  hadn't,  so  I 
knew  he  must  be  badly  rattled.  When  a  man 
begins  to  change  his  lies  it's  a  sure  sign  he  has 
lost  his  nerve.  Mrs.  Wilson  began  to  cry,  and 
her  pig  laughed.  So  just  to  cheer  them  up  a 
bit  I  called  out:  'Hello,  Charlie,  I  thought  you 
were  down  at  your  place  on  Long  Island.'  Then 
I  thought  Charlie  was  going  to  cry !  He  wiped  the 
sweat  off  his  face  and,  coming  over  to  me,  said: 

'"Jim,  this  is  something  fierce!    I  have  a  per- 
fectly good  home  where  we  can  have  chowder 
three  times  a  day,  if  we  want  it,  and  a  swim  in  the 
[  160] 


THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE 


surf  every  evening,  and  things  to  drink  that  are 
not  made  out  of  hair-oil,  and  I  left  it  all  and  came 

over  here  because  that doctor  told  me  to  go 

to  Romberg ! ' 

"Well,  we  finally  got  all  the  trunks  open,  and 
as  they  found  nothing  they  could  fine  me  for,  we 
were  allowed  to  drive  to  the  hotel.  Mrs.  Wilson 
was  still  dabbling  her  eyes  with  a  bit  of  lace  that 
one  tear  would  have  made  a  sop,  and  Maria  said 
she  was  worn  out,  and  was  going  to  bed,  and 
CharHe  said  he  must  have  a  drink,  and  so  I  told 
his  wife  I  would  go  with  him,  and  see  that  he  did 
not  take  two ! 

"  When  this  had  been  done  I  went  to  my  room, 
took  off  my  coat  and  coUar,  and  sat  down  to 
wrestle  with  the  problem  of  trunks.  After  a  while 
it  came  to  me,  and  I  rang  for  the  porter.  He 
came,  in  his  field-marshal's  imiform,  and  said, 
*  Bitter?'  and  I  said,  'Very  bitter,'  and  then 
asked  him  if  he  could  speak  the  English  language  ? 
He  said  he  could  speak  all  languages.  I  guess 
that  was  right,  but  it  would  have  been  better  if 
he  had  spoken  one  at  a  time !  However,  he  finally 
got  it  into  his  head  that  I  wanted  a  locksmith, 
and  said  he  thought  he  could  get  one  that  evening 
or  the  next  morning. 

"I  said:  'My  friend,  you  listen  to  me:  every 
minute  you  delay  takes  off  a  mark  from  what  is 
coming  to  you  when  I  leave,  so  you  can  calculate 
[  161  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

how  much  will  be  owing  me  if  you  don't  get  a 
move  on.' 

"Well,  that  got  under  his  skin,  and  before  long 
he  returned  with  a  man  in  a  green  apron,  who,  he 
said,  was  a  locksmith. 

"I  explained  to  the  porter  that  I  wanted  the 
locks  taken  off  every  trunk,  and  twenty-one  new 
locks  put  on,  which  one  key  would  fit.  It  took 
him  some  time  to  understand  that  I  did  not  want 
twenty-one  keys  and  one  lock,  but  when  he  did, 
he  translated  it  into  one  of  his  five  branches  of 
languages.  The  man  in  the  green  apron  began 
to  run  around  in  circles  and  said  there  were  not 
twenty- one  locks  alike  in  Frankfort.  I  asked 
where  they  could  be  gotten,  and  Green  Apron 
said  only  at  the  factory. 

"Well,  where  was  that? 

"In  Munich  or  near  there.  If  he  wrote  he 
might  be  able  to  get  them  in  a  week. 

"I  asked  if  his  health  did  not  permit  him  to 
travel. 

"When  he  got  that,  he  was  instructed  to  take 
the  first  train  to  Munich  and  get  those  locks, 
bring  them  back  and  have  them  on  the  trunks  by 
noon  the  next  day.  It  was  Maria's  birthday, 
and  I  wanted  to  give  her  a  surprise. 

"Well,  sir,  it  was  done,  and  now  life  is  easy. 
The  only  drawback  was  that  there  were  no  more 
German  custom-houses  for  us  to  pass  through, 
[  162] 


THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE 


and  so  no  more  officers  who  wanted  to  see  how 
many  pieces  we  had  in  the  wash,  for  we  shipped 
om*  baggage  'in  bond'  and  when  we  reached 
England  the  officer  said:  'If  you  will  open  that 
one,  it  will  be  all  that  I  shall  require,'  and  when 
I  offered  him  what  would  be  expected  at  home, 
he  declined  it !  However,  I  shall  have  some  fun 
at  home  when  we  get  on  the  dock  where  the  offi- 
cers loaf  while  distracted  Dassengers  hunt  for 
keys. 

"The  porter  got  his  tip,  but  whether  it  was  not 
as  much  as  he  had  expected,  or  whether  he 
thought  I  had  not  shown  proper  respect  for  the 
field-marshal's  uniform,  or  for  some  other  reason, 
he  did  not  seem  grateful  and  said  something 
about  tags.  I  told  him  I  didn't  need  any,  as  I 
had  had  mine  printed  before  we  left  home. 

"Maria  says  that  I  did  not  understand,  that 
the  Germans  are  expecting  a  sort  of  Day  of 
Judgment,  and  that  Tag  means  Day.  Well,  if 
it  comes  while  I'm  still  here,  I'm  willing  to  take 
what's  coming  to  me  if  sentence  can  be  suspended 
till  I  see  some  of  those  army  and  custom-house 
officers  get  theirs.  I  worked  in  the  rolling-mills, 
when  I  was  young,  and  I  guess  I  can  stand  it 
better  than  some!" 

"Jim,"  said  Mrs.  Siegel,  "you  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself,  talking  that  way  before  Mr. 
Dobson." 

[  163  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

"I  guess  that's  right,  mother,  but  Dobson 
dresses  and  talks  and  acts  so  hke  a  man  that  I 
keep  forgetting  that  he  is  a  preacher." 

As  we  drove  away  toward  Windsor  I  said  to 
Ruth:  "Is  he  not  typical  of  hundreds  we  know, 
and,  in  spite  of  their  roughness,  what  a  power 
they  are  in  the  land !" 

But  Ruth  had  not  found  him  so  amusing  as  I 
did.  She  said  that  she  found  that  continuous 
exaggeration,  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  essence 
of  American  humor,  rather  tiring,  and  added : 

"I  do  not  deny  his  good  spirit  and  kindUness, 
but  underneath  there  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  hard- 
ness in  men  of  his  sort  that  frightens  me.  Your 
neighbor  of  this  afternoon  who  rebuked  you,  was 
unquestionably  lacking  in  a  sense  of  humor — or 
at  any  rate  in  the  kind  we  are  used  to — but  he 
was  a  finer  type  than  this  man,  and  I  cannot 
help  feeling  that  the  man  who  has  an  awful  sense 
of  truth  is  a  greater  national  asset  than  the  man 
we  have  just  left." 

When  Ruth  takes  that  tone  I  do  not  dare  to 
answer,  but  I  may  say  to  you  that  I  do  not  think 
she  does  these  men  justice.  If  "Der  Tag"  ever 
comes — and  in  my  opinion  it  will  not  come — I 
think  all  this  talk  is  just  fluff — still,  if  it  should 
come,  I  believe  these  reckless  talkers,  but  shrewd 
— ^well,  perhaps  also  hard — ^men  will  give  to  the 
nation  all  the  shrewdness  and  all  the  energy 
[  164  ] 


THE  "ROB"  ROOM 


which  went  into  the  upbuilding  of  their  business, 
and  yet  will  keep  on  laughing  at  the  world,  and 
at  themselves,  too,  all  the  time  I 


XXVIII 

THE  "ROB"  ROOM 

I  ASKED  John  if  he  was  writing  to  you  and  he 
grinned  and  said  perhaps  I  had  better  write. 
The  fact  is,  he  has  not  been  behaving  very  well, 
and  is,  I  suspect,  rather  ashamed  of  himself — at 
least,  I  hope  he  is ! 

We  came  to  Windsor  and  put  up  at  what 
John  insisted  upon  calling  the  "Purple  Sow," 
though  it  is  really  the  "White  Heifer." 

The  next  morning  we  went  to  St.  George's 
Chapel,  which  seemed  to  me  the  most  beautiful 
church  I  had  ever  seen,  and  where  the  music 
would  have  filled  your  heart  with  joy.  By  some 
ill  chance,  it  was  one  of  the  days  when  they  sing 
the  Athanasian  Creed,  and,  to  my  horror,  John 
refused  to  stand  up!  He  said  it  was  "blas- 
phemous," and  I  felt  Uke  asking,  like  the  man  at 
Barchester:  "If  you  once  begin,  where  will  you 
end.^"    But  thought  it  best  to  let  him  alone. 

The  same  afternoon  we  were  shown  over  the 
castle  with  a  horde  of  sightseers.  John  was  per- 
[  165  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

fectly  quiet  until  we  came  to  the  room  in  which 
the  trophies  are  displayed.  As  we  were  standing 
before  one  of  the  glass  cases  in  which  are  splen- 
did swords  and  cups  of  gold  and  jewels  from  India 
and  China,  and  "the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea" 
— a  record  of  the  least  admirable  page  in  English 
history — ^John,  I  could  see  by  the  expression  of 
his  face,  was  thinking.  I  could  only  hope  he 
would  not  "start"  anything!  But  he  is  like 
Benny  Joyce,  who,  when  he  was  asked  in  Sunday 
School  if  he  had  any  faults,  rephed  that  he  thought 
he  could  say  he  was  without  any,  except  when  his 
brother  Tony  provoked,  him ! 

WeU,  John's  "brother  Tony"  was  near  at 
hand,  in  the  person  of  the  typical  English  shop- 
keeper. 

Turning  to  John,  he  said,  in  a  tone  half-ashamed 
and  half-exultant: 

"I  say,  we  have  collared  a  lot  of  things,  have 
we  not?" 

"Yes,"  replied  John,  "that  is  why  it  is  called 
the  'Rob'  room!" 

I  must  say,  while  I  wished  he  had  said  nothing, 
I  do  think  this  was  awfully  quick ! 

The  man  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment,  and  then 
replied:  "I  suppose  you  mean  the  Robe  Room." 
But  as  he  received  no  answer  he  evidently  thought 
it  over,  and  then  burst  out  with: 

"Oh,    I   say!    That's   awfully   good.    I   see, 
[  166] 


THE  "ROB"  ROOM 


*  Rob '  room !     Would  you  mind  if  I  told  that  to 
my  wife?" 

John  grimly  remarked  that  he  would  be  de- 
lighted. So  he  trotted  oif  to  the  other  side  of 
the  room  and  began  talking  with  evident  glee  to 
a  woman  with  a  most  uncompromising  face. 
Apparently  her  reaction  was  not  what  he  had 
expected,  and  his  countenance  fell.  He  returned 
to  John,  and  in  a  most  truculent  tone,  remarked: 

"You  are  an  American,  aren't  you?" 

To  which  John,  in  an  equally  aggressive  tone 
answered:  "I  thank  God  I  am." 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  rephed.  "And,  if  you  don't 
mind  my  saying  so,  my  wife  thinks,  and  I  quite 
agree  with  her,  that  your  remark  was  a  most 
objectionable  one." 

Did  you  ever  hear  of  anything  more  absurd? 
I  am  glad  to  say  John  had  the  good  sense  not  to 
make  a  scene.  So  we  withdrew — but  not  with 
the  honors  of  war !  Do  you  wonder  he  does  not 
feel  like  writing  to  you  ? 

We  had  intended  going  west  from  here  and  re- 
suming our  interrupted  journey,  but  a  letter  from 
Lady  Groves,  who  is  a  friend  of  Maud's,  asking 
us  to  spend  the  night  with  them  at  their  place, 
near  Reading,  delayed  us  again. 

We  did  not  arrive  this  time  for  tea  as  there  was 
something    the    matter    with    the    car — ignition 
trouble,  I  beUeve — but  fortunately  it  was  put 
[167] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

right  in  time  for  us  to  reach  our  destination  for 
dinner. 

How  can  one  express  the  charm  of  a  welcome 
to  an  EngUsh  house?  These  people,  who  seem 
so  "standoffish,"  when  one  does  not  know  them, 
expand  into  the  most  winning  cordisdity  when 
they  receive  one  into  their  own  homes.  So  that 
one  feels  that  an  "Englishman's  house  is  not 
alone  his  castle,  but  also  a  hospice!" 

The  bedroom,  to  which  I  was  shown,  called  the 
"Bird"  room,  because  of  the  pattern  of  the  paper 
and  the  chintz,  was  filled  with  real  "Sheriton," 
which  had  never  even  heard  of  Grand  Rapids! 
There  was  a  dressing-room  for  John,  equally  at- 
tractive, but  more  "manly." 

John,  as  usual,  decUned  to  give  up  his  keys  to 
the  footman,  and  threw  his  things  around  every- 
where, in  what  looked  like  hopeless  confusion, 
but  in  a  way  which,  as  he  said,  enables  him  to 
"find  things." 

There  were  but  two  guests  besides  ourselves  at 
dinner,  a  Mr.  and  Miss  Buckthorne.  Sir  William 
took  me  in  and  Mr.  Buckthorne  Lady  Groves,  so 
Miss  Buckthorne  fell  to  John. 

It  seems  the  Buckthornes  had  one  of  the  finest 
private  collections  of  "Sir  Joshua's"  in  England, 
but  they  are  "land-poor"  and  so  have  been  obliged 
to  sell  most  of  them.  I  thought  it  might  interest 
Miss  Buckthorne  to  hear  about  one  of  them, 
[  168] 


THE  "ROB"  ROOM 


which  Mr.  Frazer  bought,  and  began  lo  explain 
how  it  was  hung  in  his  new  gallery. 

Perhaps  it  was  not  tactful  to  speak  of  it  at  all, 
at  any  rate  she  was  not  in  the  least  interested, 
and  from  her  manner  I  thought  John  was  not 
likely  to  have  a  good  time. 

Her  brother,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  most 
interesting  person,  so  much  so  that  I  listened  so 
intently  to  his  conversation  that  I  forgot  all  about 
John  and  his  partner.  When,  however,  I  did  look 
at  him,  I  found  that  there  was  an  ominous  silence 
on  his  side  of  the  table.  When  we  went  up- 
stairs I  inquired  how  he  had  enjoyed  himself. 
He  was  delighted  with  his  host  and  hostess,  and 
said  that  he  found  Mr.  Buckthorne  one  of  the 
best-informed  men  he  had  ever  talked  with,  but 
rudely  remarked  that  "she,"  meaning,  I  gathered. 
Miss  Buckthorne,  "was  the  limit." 

I  said:  "I  noticed  you  did  not  have  much  to 
say  to  one  another." 

"I  had  plenty  to  say  to  her,"  he  growled,  "but 
after  the  first  course  she  never  spoke  to  me." 

"Oh,  John,"  I  said,  "tell  me  just  what  hap- 
pened." 

"Well,"  he  said,  looking  rather  sheepish,  "we 
did  not  hit  it  off." 

"I  hope  you  did  not  criticise  England.^" 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  indignantly  replied.    "  Well, 
I  will  tell  you  just  what  happened.    As  we  were 
[  169  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

going  into  the  dining-room  she  said  to  me,  in  that 
wooden  voice  of  hers:  'How  do  you  manage  in 
America,  about  precedence,  having  no  aristoc- 
racy ? ' 

"I  said,  *We  are  greatly  troubled  about  it,  and 
I  fear  will  never  find  a  solution  of  the  problem 
until  we  become  again  an  English  colony.'" 

"John,"  I  cried,  "how  could  you?" 

"Well,  she  looked  so  melancholy  that  I  thought 
I  would  jolly  her  up  a  bit." 

"Yes,"  I  retorted,  "but  haven't  you  been  here 
long  enough  to  learn  that  what  you  call  'jollying' 
the  English  call  'ragging,'  and  leave  it  to  school- 
boys, and  do  not  indulge  in  it  at  dinner-parties?" 

"Well,  I  learned  to-night,"  he  replied.  Seem- 
ingly that  was  the  end  of  the  matter,  but  I  knew 
better,  and  insisted  upon  knowing  all,  so  he  con- 
tinued: "She  asked  what  we  were  doing  in  the 
meantime,  and  I  said:  'Oh,  we  are  just  experi- 
menting.' 

" '  How  do  you  mean  "  experimenting," '  she  said. 

"Well,  at  one  house  the  butler,  when  he  an- 
nounced dinner,  said:  'The  oldest  lady  present  will 
please  go  in  first.'  Of  course,  no  one  would  move; 
so  that  night  we  had  no  dinner.  The  next  dinner 
we  went  to,  he  said :  '  This  evening  it  is  requested 
that  the  most  beautiful  lady  present  will  lead  the 
way.'  And  as  they  all  rushed  together,  several 
people  were  injured,  and  again  the  dinner  had  to 
[  170  ] 


VESTED  INTERESTS 


be  given  up.  And,  when  I  left,  I  found  that 
every  one  was  standing  as  near  the  door  as  pos- 
sible, so  as  to  slip  in  first  and  get  the  best  seat  at 
table." 

She  gasped,  and  exclaimed,  "How  extraor- 
dinary!" and  never  spoke  another  word  during 
the  dinner.  I  do  not  know  now  whether  she  is 
thinking  it  over,  or  whether  she  suspects  that  I 
was  engaged  in  that  interesting  pastime  of  "pull- 
ing her  leg,"  though  from  the  glimpse  I  caught — 
But  I  spare  you ! 


XXIX 

VESTED  INTERESTS 

I  THINK  Ruth  has  written  you  some  nonsense 
about  me  to  which  I  hope  you  will  pay  no  atten- 
tion. She  is  somewhat  of  a  romancer.  I  do  not 
mean  that  the  bare  facts  are  not  as  she  states 
them,  but  I  have  your  own  high  authority  for 
the  dictum  that  "A  fact  is  often  a  most  mislead- 
ing thing"! 

At  any  rate,  I  know  she  could  not  have  told 
you  about  the  interesting  conversation  we  men 
had  over  our  cigars  after  dinner,  last  night. 
After  the  ladies  withdrew  Sir  William  asked  me 
many  questions  about  our  church.  He  wished 
particularly  to  learn  how  "The  Anghcan  Church 
[  171  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

in  the  States"  got  on  without  the  supervision  of 
the  state.  I  explained  how  rectors  were  "called," 
and  bishops  elected,  and  deputies  to  the  General 
Convention  chosen,  etc.  He  was  greatly  inter- 
ested, and  said  that  unless  something  was  done 
to  give  the  laity  a  voice  in  the  management  of  the 
parish,  he  believed  the  days  of  the  Church  of 
England  were  numbered.  I  asked  him  why  he 
felt  so  despondent,  and  he  said: 

"Take  the  case  of  this  parish:  the  rector  is  an 
uncouth  creature  who  was  given  the  hving  by  a 
man  to  whom  his  father  was  tutor,  and  who  prob- 
ably took  orders  with  this  in  view,  for  he  is  far 
more  interested  in  his  glebe  than  in  the  cure  of 
souls.  He  will  not  listen  to  any  suggestions,  but 
goes  his  own  way.  All  the  money  goes  into  his 
hands  and  there  is  no  accounting  to  any  one.  I  do 
not  suggest  that  he  is  dishonest,  but  I  do  say  that 
a 'man  who  had  the  right  feehng  would  recognize 
that  the  people  should  know  the  amounts  given, 
and  the  purposes  for  which  they  are  used." 
I  said:  "Surely  there  is  a  churchwarden?" 
"True,  but  he  is  the  schoolmaster,  appointed 
by  the  rector  and  dependent  upon  him.  The  ser- 
vice is  conducted  in  a  most  slovenly  manner,  and 
the  music  is  quite  painful.  I  offered  to  pay  for  a 
proper  choirmaster,  but  he  said  that  was  an  in- 
sult to  his  wife's  sister,  who  plays  the  organ.  The 
result  of  his  bad  manners  and  dictatorial  spirit  is 
[  172  ] 


VESTED  INTERESTS 


that  the  congregation  has  dwindled  to  a  mere 
handful,  and  they  are  mostly  children  whom  the 
schoolmaster  compels  to  come.  The  fact  is  that 
dissent  is  increasing  at  an  alarming  rate,  and  I 
think  that  soon  there  will  be  nothing  left  but  the 
parson  and  the  glebe!" 

"Can  the  bishop  do  nothing?"  I  asked. 

"Apparently  not.  The  bishop  says  that  if  a 
responsible  person  will  prefer  charges  he  will  take 
the  matter  up,  but  that '  a  man  cannot  be  deprived 
of  his  living  because  he  happens  to  be  unpopular.' 
Of  course,  if  the  Church  of  England  exists  to  pro- 
vide 'livings,'  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said. 
But  if  its  purpose  is  to  minister  to  the  people,  a 
way  must  be  found  to  accomplish  that.  But  I 
fear  the  attempt  will  prove  fatal  to  the  Establish- 
ment." 

Of  course,  you  and  I  should  not  feel  that  this 
would  be  fatal  to  the  church,  but  what  these  men 
fear  is  that  if  the  impartial  hand  of  the  state  is 
withdrawn,  the  church  will  become  a  sect,  or 
rather  as  many  sects  as  there  are  now  parties. 
And  if  disestablishment  comes  before  the  laity 
have  gained  their  rights,  we  can  guess  what  the 
"ecclesiastic"  clerical,  and  especially  the  laymen 
— whom  Thomas  Browne  once  referred  to  as 
"ecclesiastical  eunuchs" ! — will  make  of  it. 

Mr.  Buckthorne,  who  had  kept  silent  while  we 
were  talking,  now  said:  "This  is  a  hard  case,  but 
[  173] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

it  is  nothing  to  what  our  parish  has  to  endure." 
I  said,  "What  is  your  trouble?  What  has  your 
parson  done?" 

"You  might  better  ask  what  has  he  not  done ! 
In  the  first  place,  there  is  a  very  ugly  story  about 
a  farmer's  daughter — the  rights  of  which  I  neither 
know  nor  wish  to  know — ^but  as  a  result  none  of 
the  farmers  wiU  have  anything  to  say  to  him. 
In  the  second  place,  he  sits  in  the  bar  of  the 
pubUc  house  every  Saturday  night  till  closing 
time,  drinking  with  the  village  topers,  and  con- 
sequently the  respectable  tradesmen  will  not 
come  into  the  church.  And  finally  it  is  reported — 
I  do  not  say  it  is  true,  for  I  should  not  like  to 
bring  such  a  charge  against  any  man  without 
positive  proof — ^but  I  do  know  it  is  commonly 
beheved  that  he  has  shot  partridges  sitting!  and, 
of  course,  after  that,  no  gentleman  will  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  him." 

"I  should  hope  not,"   cried  Sir  WlUiam  in- 
dignantly. 

No,  I  did  not  laugh  at  this  moral  anticUmax.    I 
again  asked  if  the  bishop  could  do  nothing. 

"Oh,  the  bishop  has  been  appealed  to,  and, 
being  a  good  man  himself  and  a  gentleman,  is, 
of  course,  greatly  distressed.  I  was  one  of  those 
who  went  to  see  him,  but  all  he  could  say  was: 
'Dear  me,  this  is  very  sad.  But  it  is  to  be  re- 
membered that  the  man  is  a  rector  and  has  a 
[174] 


VESTED  INTERESTS 


vested  interest  in  the  living.  Of  course,  if  re- 
sponsible people  can  be  found  to  substantiate 
these  charges,  undoubtedly  he  could  be  brought 
to  trial,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  law 
against  libel  is  very  stringent,  and  I  should  not 
care  to  move  unless  I  could  be  assured  that  a  ver- 
dict in  my  favor  was  a  little  more  than  probable.* 
And  so  the  matter  was  dropped." 

"What  shall  we  say  to  these  things?"  Well, 
the  obvious  thing  is  that  it  is  not  royalty,  as  the 
Fourth  of  July  orators  used  to  declaim,  nor  the 
House  of  Lords,  as  the  Hyde  Park  speakers  are 
asserting,  nor  the  palaces  of  the  bishops,  as  some 
of  our  non-conformist  friends  beheve;  it  is  the 
"vested  interests,"  which  the  new  democracy 
must  blast  out  of  church  and  state  before  the  people 
can  determine  their  own  destiny. 

I  suspect,  if  we  were  face  to  face,  you  with  your 
sceptical  spirit  would  suggest  that  there  is  some- 
thing else  to  be  said,  which  is  that  this  quiet  and 
intelligent-looking  Mr.  Buckthorne  may  have 
been  feeding  me  on  the  same  diet  I  served  to  his 
sister.  At  any  rate,  if  not  about  the  lesser  im- 
morality of  his  parson,  at  least  about  his  heinous 
crime  of  shooting  partridges,  sitting. 

I  do  not  deny  that  this  is  possible,  and  indeed, 

much  as  I  should  wish  to  believe  such  a  story,  I 

am  almost  in  hopes  it  is  not  true,  for,  if  you  will 

read  to  the  end  of  this  long  story — which  must, 

[  175] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

however,  be  left  to  my  next — you  will  see  why  I 
have  to-day  a  feUow  feeling  for  the  wretch,  which 
last  night  I  should  have  thought  impossible ! 


XXX 

"THE  AULD  UN'" 

We  had  intended  to  take  our  departure  the 
next  morning,  but  Sir  William  was  so  insistent 
that  we  should  stay  at  least  a  part  of  the  day 
that  we  decided  to  wait  until  the  afternoon. 
This  gave  great  pleasure  to  Ruth,  who  wished  to 
see  the  garden — she  is  still  dreaming  of  that 
country  parsonage  where  she  will  have  a  garden 
of  her  own ! 

As  there  was  nothing  in  particular  for  me  to  do 
our  host  suggested  that  I  might  take  a  gun  and 
go  out  with  him  to  "pick  up  a  few  rabbits.'*  I 
told  him  the  only  ones  I  was  hkely  to  pick  up 
would  be  those  shot  by  some  one  else,  for  I  had 
not  handled  a  gun  since  I  was  in  college.  But, 
evidently,  he  felt  about  that  as  you  would  feel  if 
a  brother  parson  were  to  say  that  he  was  so  rusty 
in  his  Greek  that  he  could  not  read  his  New  Testa- 
ment.    It  would  not  seem  credible ! 

You  must  know  that  nothing  can  be  done  in 
England  without  "dressing  for  the  part."  Sir 
[  176] 


'THE  AULD  UN'" 


William  was  already  arrayed  for  the  battue,  but 
I  had  to  get  out  some  knickerbockers,  which  took 
time  because  the  troublesome  footman  had  put 
them  away!  However  they  were  found  at  last, 
and  they  with  my  Norfolk  jacket  made  me  pre- 
sentable, so  we  started  with  the  keeper,  who  car- 
ried over  his  shoulder  a  sack  in  which  were  evi- 
dently Uve  creatures  of  some  sort,  for  the  bag  was 
constantly  agitated.  I  hoped  they  might  be 
rabbits  for  me  to  "pick  up,"  but  they  proved  to 
be  ferrets. 

When  we  reached  the  warrens  these  crawling 
creatures — ^which  look  like  diminutive  dachshunds 
— were  shaken  out  of  the  bag  and  promptly  melted 
into  the  earth.  Soon  there  was  heard  a  faint 
squealing,  and  the  keeper  announced  that  one  of 
the  young  ferrets  was  killing  a  rabbit  and  would 
be  of  no  further  use  to  us.  But  the  others  had  a 
deeper  sense  of  duty,  or  were  better  sportsmen — 
which  seems  to  mean  the  same  thing — for  soon 
the  rabbits  began  to  pop  up  all  over  the  place. 
Sir  WiUiam  had  potted  two  before  I  could  get  my 
gun  to  my  shoulder.  The  keeper  called  my  at- 
tention to  the  fact  that  it  was  necessary  to  "look 
lively,"  but  that  is  a  thing  at  which  I  have  never 
been  good. 

However,  I  determined  that  I  would  do  better 
the  next  time  the  rabbits  appeared.  This  I  did, 
for  a  moment  later  I  saw  a  little  bunch  of  fluff, 
[  177  1 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

no  bigger  than  your  fist,  roll  over  and  then  lie 
still.  One  would  have  thought  I  had  killed  a 
bull  moose,  so  generous  was  the  applause  of  the 
keeper  and  Sir  William.  I  felt  like  Mr.  Winkle — 
or  was  it  Mr.  Tupman — when  he  shut  his  eyes 
and  brought  down  the  bird !  I  shot  a  number  of 
times  more  but  without  success,  and  began  to 
think  I  really  must  look  more  lively  still.  And  I 
did !  There  were  a  few  moments  when  no  more 
rabbits  appeared,  though,  from  time  to  time,  one 
of  those  slimy  ferrets  would  come  to  the  surface, 
stretch  its  long  neck  and  look  around  to  see  if  any- 
thing of  interest  appeared,  and  then  silently  melt 
again  into  the  earth.  Suddenly  a  head  appeared 
from  a  hole  some  distance  away.  Sir  William  did 
not  move — evidently  had  not  seen  it,  so,  think- 
ing this  was  my  chance  I  fired,  and  the  creature 
rolled  over,  kicked  once  or  twice,  and  then  lay 
still. 

I  looked  for  applause,  but  as  you  may  have 
noticed  the  audience  does  not  always  respond  at 
the  moment  one  expects ! 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then  Sir 
William  exclaimed:  "Good  Lord!  You've  shot 
the  ferret!" 

The  keeper  groaned  as  if  he  had  lost  his  only 
child,  and  said,  with  tears  in  his  voice:  "It  was 
the  auld  un'." 

There  was  nothing  to  be  said,  and  the  keeper 
[  178  ] 


'THE  AULD  UN' 


sadly  buried  his  favorite,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were 
one  of  that  party  who  had  buried  Sir  John  Moore: 

"  Not  a  drum  was  heard. 
Slowly  and  sadly  we  laid  him  down! " 

We  walked  away  without  a  word.  There  came, 
however,  to  my  mind  a  story  Sir  WiUiam  had 
told  me  as  we  left  the  house  in  the  morning,  of 
an  American  who  came  over  to  one  of  the  great 
"Shoots"  in  Yorkshire  and  asked  his  host  as 
they  started  out  the  first  morning,  "How  much 
he  ought  to  give  the  keeper?"  and  he  rephed: 
"  It  depends  upon  where  you  hit  him."  I  laughed 
then,  but  I  was  not  laughing  now!  For  I  was 
wondering  what  sum  would  make  good  the  loss 
of  an"AuldUn'." 

I  gave  the  keeper  what  I  could  afford — ^indeed 
more — but  I  am  not  sure  he  will  ever  be  the 
same  man  again!  I  know  one  thing.  I  could 
have  bought  a  fat  red  deer  for  what  that  little 
handful  of  fluff  cost  me ! 

As  we  started  to  leave  the  little  clump  of  pines 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  the  murder,  the 
keeper  threw  the  sack  on  the  ground  and  said 
to  the  boy  who  had  accompanied  us — to  bring 
home  the  rabbits,  I  suppose — "You  can  bring 
*em  home,  Jock." 

He  evidently  had  not  the  heart  to  gather  up 
the  remaining  ferrets,  and  so  strode  away  after 
[  179] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

Sir  William.  The  boy  looked  up  at  me  with  a 
grin  and  held  up  the  index  finger  of  his  right 
hand,  on  which  there  was  the  scar  of  a  bite.  I 
gathered  that  he  and  the  "Auld  Un'"  had  not 
been  the  best  of  friends,  and  that  there  was  one  of 
the  party  who  did  not  mourn  its  untimely  death ! 

I  hurried  after  the  others,  and  when  I  caught 
up  with  them,  broke  my  gun  to  eject  the  lethal 
cartridge  and  the  one  that  had  not  been  fired, 
but  my  host  said:  "Oh,  I  wouldn't  do  that;  we 
might  meet  a  grouse  on  the  way  back.  Jenkins,'* 
he  said,  turning  to  the  keeper,  "have  you  seen 
any  hereabouts.^" 

"There  was  a  brace.  Sir  Wilham,  in  the  stubble- 
field  this  morning.  They  may  be  around  now, 
we  might  take  a  look." 

"I  think,  then,"  said  Sir  William,  "we  will  cut 
through  the  Green  Lane,  and  see  what  there  is 
in  that  field." 

We  had  hardly  entered  the  lane  when  a  bird 
rose  from  behind  a  bush  with  a  whirr  that  startled 
me,  but  I  fired  almost  without  taking  aim,  and 
brought  it  down.  There  was  an  awful  silence, 
and  then  Sir  Wilham  said,  in  a  strained  voice: 
"I  hardly  know  what  we  had  better  do.  Still, 
as  it  is  done,  Jenkins,  you  had  better  send  it  up 
to  the  Hall." 

"Excuse  me,  Sir  Wilham,"  said  Jenkins,  "but 
there  would  be  a  lot  of  talk  in  the  servants'  hall, 
[  180  ] 


THE  AULD  UN'" 


and  I  thiiik  it  would  be  better  if  I  took  it  home 
with  me  aiid  burned  the  feathers,  and  no  one  but 
ourselves  need  be  any  the  wiser.  Thank  God, 
the  boy  is  back  there  in  the  wood !  And  I  don't 
suppose  the  gentleman  will  talk." 

After  a  long  pause  my  host  rephed,  with  a  sigh, 
that  he  supposed  that  would  be  best. 

Perhaps  you  will  be  asking,  what  was  the 
trouble  i^  I  knew  no  more  than  you !  At  first 
I  thought  I  must  have  killed  the  twin  brother  of 
the  "Auld  Un'"  but  reflected  that  ferrets  do  not 
fly.  It  could  not  have  been  one  of  the  keeper's 
children  as  I  feared  when  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
his  face,  for  children  do  not  have  feathers  to  burn ! 
At  last,  I  said,  rather  testily,  I  fear:  "Would  you 
mind  teUing  what  is  the  trouble  .►^" 

Sir  WilHam  looked  at  me,  more  in  sorrow  than 
in  anger,  and  solemnly  replied:  "It  was  a 
pheasant.''^ 

Even  then  I  did  not  understand.  But  little 
by  little  it  came  out  that  I  had  committed  the 
unpardonable  sin.  For  the  time  of  pheasants 
was  not  yet  I  There  is  a  heavy  fine  for  shooting 
them  out  of  season,  but  that  did  not  trouble  my 
generous  host.  It  was  the  shame  of  the  thing  I 
If  it  were  ever  known  among  his  feUow  sports- 
men that  he  or  his  keeper  had  been  seen  with  a 
dead  pheasant  in  their  possession  before  the  ap- 
pointed day,  he  was  a  ruined  man  I 
[181] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

Never  again  can  I  laugh  at  Mr.  Winkle  I  It  is 
true  I  had  not  posed  as  a  sportsman,  but  I  should 
have  had  the  moral  courage  to  decline  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  a  sport  which  might  bring 
sorrow  to  the  owner  of  the  beloved  "Auld  Un','* 
and  entail  a  shameful  secret  on  my  kindly  host. 

Much  as  I  hke  them,  I  was  glad  to  leave  these 
kindly  people,  and  one  of  them  at  least,  I  am  sure, 
was  glad  to  have  me  go !  I  can  only  hope  that  I 
may  not  be  hereafter  bracketed  in  his  mind  with 
the  miscreant  who  is  suspected  of  shooting  par- 
tridges "sitting"! 


XXXI 

CHURCH  AND  STATE 

We  were  now  headed  for  Chester,  but  stopped 
the  Sunday  at  Malvern.  We  had  to  take  ref- 
uge in  the  hotel  near  the  station  because 
the  more  select  one  was  full;  but  we  found  it 
comfortable,  and  the  people  with  whom  we  came 
in  contact  made  up  for  the  exclusive  refinement 
of  the  smaller  inn. 

On  Sunday  morning  Ruth  announced  that  she 
was  going  to  take  a  "day  off,"  so  I  went  to  the 
Abbey  alone.  It  is  a  beautiful  building  in  spite 
of  restorations,  but,  as  usual,  I  was  more  inter- 
ested in  the  people  than  in  the  building,  and  as  I 
[  182  ] 


CHURCH  AND  STATE 


had  to  look  with  Ruth's  eyes  as  well  as  my  own, 
the  first  thing  that  attracted  me  was  the  number 
of  children  present,  and,  secondly,  the  beauty  of 
the  girls'  hair.  There  were  a  score  of  girls  whose 
hair  would  have  made  the  fortune  of  the  proprietor 
of  a  capillary  tonic.  It  was  long  and  glossy,  and 
fine  as  silk.  Sometimes,  it  seemed  to  me,  the 
color  was  rather  pale,  but  it  floated  over  their 
shoulders  in  waves  of  beauty.  I  thought  of  St. 
Paul's  remark  that  a  woman's  glory  is  her  hair, 
which  showed  a  more  sympathetic  appreciation 
than  one  would  have  expected  from  such  a  source. 
Indeed,  it  is  almost  the  only  thing  he  says  about 
women  which  appeals  to  the  modern  mind. 

You  remember  Newman's  complaint,  in  the 
Apologia,  that  if  there  is  anything  more  dreary 
than  the  Anglican  service,  he  does  not  know 
what  it  is.  Well,  that  may  have  been  true  in  his 
day  before  the  Romantic  spirit,  which  in  its  eccle- 
siastical form  we  call  the  Oxford  Movement,  had 
revealed  the  beauty  of  the  liturgy,  but  it  could 
hardly  have  been  justly  said  of  the  service  this 
morning  at  the  Abbey.  But  the  sermon  I  I  have 
since  learned  that  the  vicar  was  ill  and  that  a 
curate  was  suddenly  called  upon  to  take  his  place. 
It  would  have  been  far  better  had  there  been  no 
sermon  at  all.  The  service  was  enough.  I  be- 
lieve it  is  often  enough,  and  the  trouble  with  us 
parsons  is  that  we  do  not  know  when  to  stopl 
[183] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

I  do  not  mean  after  the  sermon  has  begun,  but 
before  it!  Certainly  in  this  church,  had  the 
organist  been  taken  suddenly  ill  they  would  not 
have  called  on  a  choir  boy  to  play  the  organ,  nor 
should  that  curate  have  been  allowed  to  fret  the 
congregation  as  he  did.  Well,  it  had  one  merit, 
it  was  but  ten  minutes  long. 

As  I  walked  away  I  was  joined  by  a  man 
whom  I  had  noticed  at  the  hotel.  He  abruptly 
remarked:  "Beastly  sermon!"  Well,  "dog  will 
not  eat  dog,"  so  I  only  said :  "  Did  you  think  so  ?  " 

"I  should  say  I  did.  I  call  it  a  disgrace  to 
allow  such  an  exhibition.  Damn  lazy  beggar,  he 
didn't  even  get  his  text  right.  I  wonder  if  there 
is  any  other  profession  in  which  such  incom- 
petence would  be  tolerated  ?  I  do  not  know  what 
his  stipend  may  be,  I  only  know  he  is  grossly 
overpaid  no  matter  how  small  it  may  be." 

There  did  not  seem  to  be  anything  to  say  that 
would  not  sound  like  an  anticlimax  after  such 
eloquence,  so  I  kept  silence,  a  thing,  by  the  way, 
an  EngHshman  never  resents. 

One  often  hears  it  said  that  EngKshmen  do  not 
care  for  sermons,  but  I  suspect  they  like  them  as 
much  as  other  people,  when  they  can  get  them! 
I  have  been  wondering  since  if  I  should  have  been 
so  much  impressed  by  the  girls'  hair  if  there  had 
been  more  men  in  the  church ! 

As  you  know  the  Cause  CSlebre  is  making  great 
[  184  ] 


CHURCH  AND  STATE 


excitement  here  as  all  over  the  world — perhaps 
more  here.  As  the  judges  were  expected  to  give 
their  decision  yesterday,  I  hmried  to  the  rsdlway 
station  early  this  morning  to  get  a  Sunday  paper. 
But  there  are  no  such  things!  Did  you  know 
that  P  It  seems  incredible  that  the  result  of  this 
portentous  trial  is  known  all  over  the  world  except 
a  hundred  miles  from  the  spot  where  the  verdict 
was  given.    But  it  is  so ! 

In  the  evening  I  attended  service  at  the  little 
church  near  the  hotel — Ruth's  day  off  lasting 
into  the  evening!  Not  that  I  am  surprised. 
We  parsons  work  off  the  nervous  strain  in  the 
act  of  preaching  and  forget  that  the  family  has 
the  strain  without  the  rehef !  At  any  rate,  that 
is  the  way  with  Ruth.  I  think  she  expects  each 
Sunday  that  I  shall  come,  what  the  English  call 
a  "cropper,*'  so  I  am  glad  when  she  can  be  in- 
duced to  rest  on  the  Lord's  Day.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  parson  is  Uke  an  actor,  of  whom  I 
have  heard  it  s£ud  that  if  he  gets  a  night  "off" 
he  goes  to  some  other  theatre !  Well,  apart  from 
its  religious  influence,  which  I  trust  was  not  alto- 
gether lacking,  I  am  glad  I  went  to  this  church, 
for  reasons  I  will  now  explain. 

When  the  time  for  the  notices  came,  the  parson, 

with  more  hesitations  and  swallowings  than  I  can 

describe,  said:    "My  brethren,  at  this  morning's 

service  (ahem)  I  reminded  you  that  a  trial  in 

[185] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

which  the  whole  world  is  interested,  (swallow) 
and  in  which  questions  of  the  most  momentous 
importance  were  to  be  decided,  (ahem)  was  being 
held,  (ahem)  and  I  suggested  (swaUow)  that  it 
would  be  well,  if  in  your  private  prayers,  (ahem) 
you  would  ask  that  the  judges  might  be  guided  to 
a  right  judgment.  Since  then,  however,  (a  fear- 
ful swallow)  I  have  been  informed  that  a  private 
telegram  (ahem)  has  been  received,  by  a  person 
present  at  this  morning's  service,  saying  (ahem) 
that  the  judgment  had  been  rendered  yesterday. 
Possibly  (ahem)  it  may  seem  to  some  of  you 
(swallow)  that  prayers  offered  after  an  event 
(ahem)  could  in  no  wise  affect  that  (swallow) 
event  (swallow)  and  (ahem)  were  therefore  quite 
futile.  But  while  this  is  (ahem)  a  not  unnatural, 
it  is  (swaUow)  a  hasty  conclusion.  It  may  be 
that  they  wiU  not  immediately  (ahem)  effect  a  re- 
versal of  a  judgment  which,  I  am  sure  we  all  feel, 
was  wrong.  But  even  if  that  should  not  be  the 
result,  who  can  put  a  hmit  to  the  Divine  Omnipo- 
tence? I  do  not  believe  those  prayers  were  in 
vain — I  do  not  beheve  any  prayers  are  in  vain. 
I  beheve  that  in  ways  we  cannot  foresee,  God  will 
bring  good  out  of  evil." 

You  will  note  how,  when  he  got  on  his  own 
ground  of  personal  experience,  his  confidence  in- 
creased and  his  hesitations  ceased.     Illogical  as  it 
all  sounds  when  it  is  put  down  in  "cold"  type,  I 
[  186] 


CHURCH  AND  STATE 


could  not  but  admire  the  man's  courage  in  stick- 
ing to  his  guns.  And  I  suspect  he  had  laid  hold 
of  a  great  truth  which  he  could  not  quite  swing — 
as  who  could? — and  shall  watch  this  case  with 
new  interest  to  see  if  pubhc  opinion  (which  some- 
how we  dissociate  from  the  influence  of  God's 
Spirit)  does  not  compel  the  court  to  do  justice 
in  spite  of  all. 

I  suppose  there  must  have  been  a  sermon,  but 
I  cannot  remember  anything  about  it.  I  had 
enough  to  think  of  in  meditating  on  the  notice  I 
I  wonder  how  often  this  is  the  case ! 

On  returning  to  the  hotel  I  went  into  the 
smoking-room  for  a  final  pipe.  There  were  three 
other  men  there,  evidently  "gentry" — you  know 
the  type  and  also  the  oppressive  silence  of  such 
places.  One  would  have  supposed  that  no  one 
of  them  had  ever  seen  the  other!  For  a  long 
time  no  one  spoke.    Finally  one  of  them  said: 

"That  was  an  extraordinary  remark  of  the 
parson's  this  morning,  asking  the  congregation 
to  ask  in  their  prayers  that  the  French  judges 
might  be  led  to  a  right  judgment,  when  many  of 
us  knew  they  had  already  rendered  their  de- 
cision!" 

The  silence  which  followed  was  so  long  that  I 
thought  the  others  did  not  wish  to  be  drawn  into 
a  discussion  on  such  a  subject.  But  I  was  mis- 
taken. One  of  them,  when  he  "got  good  and 
[  187] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

ready,"  as  they  used  to  say  in  the  part  of  the 
country  I  know  best,  expressed  himself  as  follows: 

"It  was  worse  than  futile,  it  was  highly  im- 
proper. I  felt  incensed!  I  should  never  dream 
of  praying  for  the  damned  scoundrels — I  should 
consider  it  almost  blasphemous." 

Another  long  silence,  and  then  he  continued: 
"Moreover,  I  resent  any  attempt  on  the  part  of 
a  parson  to  dictate  to  me  what  I  should  or  should 
not  pray  for.  I  consider  such  things  entirely 
private  between  me  and  my  Maker.  His  advice 
was  an  infringement  of  personal  liberty,  and  I 
highly  resent  it." 

As  no  one  spoke  for  a  httle  space,  I  had  time 
to  rejoice  in  this  exhibition  of  sturdy  Protestant 
independence,  but  finally  the  silent  member  of 
the  party  spoke: 

"I  am  thankful  to  say,"  he  remarked,  as  he 
knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  "that  I  was  not 
present.  My  wife  told  me  about  it,  and  I  said 
to  her:  ' My  dear,  this  only  illustrates  what  I  have 
said  more  than  once,  that  the  clergy  never  in- 
trude into  politics  without  making  damn  fools  of 
themselves.'" 

I  fled  and  sought  for  Ruth  I  At  length  I  found 
her  sitting  in  the  drawing-room  with  three  ladies 
— ^probably  the  wives  of  the  smokers.  She  did 
not  see  me,  and  this  is  what  I  heard: 

First  Lady:  "Do  you  mean  to  say  you  like  to 
live  in  America?" 

[  188] 


CHURCH  AND  STATE 


Ruth:  "Yes,  very  much." 

First  Lady:  "But  do  you  not  have  a  great  deal 
of  lynching  there  ?  " 

Ruth  (confusedly):  "I  am  sorry  to  say  we  do 
have  a  good  deal." 

Second  Lady:  "What  is  lynching.^" 

First  Lady:  "Why,  if  a  man  is  unpopular  in  a 
conamunity,  the  leading  people  drag  him  away 
to  a  convenient  tree  and  hang  him.  Sometimes 
they  bum  him.    Shocking,  is  it  not.^*" 

Second  Lady:  "It  would  be  shocking  as  a 
regular  thing,  but  I  confess  it  seems  to  me  a  most 
admirable  custom  for  certain  occasions,  and  I 
should  be  glad  if  it  were  brought  over  with  other 
American  inventions  that  we  have  found  so  con- 
venient. Think  what  it  would  mean  to  wake 
up  to-morrow  and  learn  that  Lloyd  George  had 
been  hanged  in  the  night  1" 

Third  Lady  (vindictively):  "Yes,  and  better 
still,  the  whole  Liberal  cabinet." 

Second  Lady:  "Oh,  that  would  be  more  than 
one  could  hope  for." 

First  Lady  (whose  humanitarianism  seems  to  have 
been  poisoned  by  party  politics,  but  is  trying  to  pre- 
vent a  Reign  of  Terror  in  England):  "Surely  you 
would  except  John  Bums.*^" 

Third  Lady:  "Perhaps  I  should.  I  sometimes 
think  that  he  has  really  repented,  and  that  now 
his  face  is  set  toward  the  light." 

At  that  moment  Ruth  turned  and  caught  my 
f  189  1 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

eye.  She  followed  me  out  of  the  room  and, 
though  choking  with  laughter,  said:  "I  would 
give  a  good  deal  if  you  had  not  overheard  that 
conversation!" 

"Wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  worlds,"  I  re- 
pUed.  *'I  have  another  picture  to  hang  beside  it, 
and  I  shall  call  them  'Church  and  State!'" 


XXXII 

THE  CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  QUEEN 

Our  journey  led  us  now  to  Chester,  whence 
we  started  on  a  httle  trip  through  Northern 
Wales.  I  was  not  very  keen  for  it,  for  I  feared 
it  might  prove  too  "post-cardy !"  But  it  did 
not. 

If  your  memory  fails  you,  you  may  turn  again 
to  your  "Baedeker,"  for  I  do  not  intend  to  bore 
you  with  descriptions  of  scenery. 

At  Betts-y-Coed  we  stopped  at  the  "Waterloo," 
and  took  as  many  photos  of  the  brawling  brook 
as  Mr.  Pecksniff's  pupils  made  elevations  of  SaKs- 
bury  Cathedral. 

But  far  more  interesting  to  me  than  any  land- 
scape was  the  porter  of  the  hotel — John.  You 
recall  OKver  Wendell  Holmes's  description  of  the 
"Two  Voices" — ^if  not  look  it  up  in  your  "Auto- 
[190] 


THE  CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  QUEEN 

crat,"  mine  is  in  the  trunk  at  Chester.  One  of 
these  voices,  I  remember,  was  that  of  a  German 
chambermaid  in  a  hotel  at  Buffalo,  and  the  other 
— I  have  forgotten  where !  Well,  John's  voice  is 
more  beautiful  than  theirs,  I  am  sure.  Indeed,  I 
think  it  the  most  beautiful  speaking  voice  I  have 
ever  heard — as  more  musical  than  the  EngHsh 
voice  than  that  is  more  musical  than  the  Phila- 
delphian's — at  which  you  never  tire  of  girding  I 
The  timbre  is  exquisite,  and  there  is  a  caressing 
quahty  in  it  which  belongs  to  the  Celt  alone. 
Motorists,  dusty,  tired,  hungry,  and  cross  drove 
up  hour  after  hour,  and  John's  greeting  was  as 
comfortable  as  a  warm  bath.  And  when  I  say 
bath,  I  mean  a  wallow  in  a  tub  and  not  a  wash 
in  a  tin  basin — but  I  forgot.  Ruth  asked  me 
not  to  mention  "baths"  again  until  we  passed 
Sandy  Hook.  I  do  not  know  why.  Perhaps 
you  do.^ 

What  is  it  makes  the  Celt  so  much  more  lovable 
than  the  Saxon  P  Some  of  their  quaHties  are  not 
sterling.  Some  of  them  are  not  quite  honest  in 
small  matters,  and  their  standard  of  truth  is  not 
ours.  They  used  to  tell  us  in  the  seminary  that 
the  elder  brother  in  the  parable  stood  for  the 
Jew,  and  the  prodigal  for  the  Gentile.  Why  does 
not  some  man  who  does  not  wish  to  be  a  bishop 
or  to  go  to  the  General  Convention,  say  that  they 
are  types  of  the  Saxon  and  the  Celt  ?  It  has  the 
[  191  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

advantage  of  a  "modern  instance,"  and  is  prob- 
ably quite  as  true ! 

At  any  rate,  it  is  the  Celt  who  is  lovable,  though 
the  Saxon  may  be  admirable.  Well,  perhaps  that 
means  that  the  Saxon  has  arrived,  and  that  the 
future  belongs  to  the  Celt.  This,  at  any  rate,  is 
my  feeling  as  I  think  of  the  Welsh.  Perhaps  my 
feelings  may  undergo  a  change  when  I  cross  to 
Ireland !  In  the  meantime,  I  am  sure  the  Welsh- 
man would  object  to  be  called  a  prodigal,  as  who 
would  not ! 

The  average  American  returns  from  England 
declaring  that  the  climate  is  wretched,  and  I  have 
often  shared  that  opinion  myself,  but,  after  all, 
where  can  one  enjoy  the  twilight  as  in  the  British 
Isles  ?  We  do  not  know  what  it  means,  at  home. 
But  here  from  eight  to  ten  in  the  evening  is  the 
most  enjoyable  part  of  the  day.  We  were  sitting 
in  the  garden  of  the  hotel  in  this  pleasant  time, 
I  smoking  and  Ruth  thinking — I  wonder  of  what  ? 
There  was  a  far-away  look  in  her  eyes — when  a 
man  came  out  of  the  dining-room  and  settled 
himself  in  one  of  the  basket  chairs  on  the  lawn, 
not  far  from  us  and,  drawing  out  a  dainty  case, 
lit  a  small  cigar,  whose  aroma  floated  to  us. 
I  glanced  at  him  indiflFerently,  but  when  Ruth 
said,  "That  is  an  interesting  face,"  looked  at 
him  more  carefully.  He  was  evidently  a  clergy- 
man, but  his  dress  was  not  that  of  the  conventional 
[  192] 


THE  CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  QUEEN 

parson,  with  the  rigid  "dog  collar."  He  wore  a 
waistcoat  which  buttoned  to  the  throat,  but  was 
open  enough  to  show  a  lawn  cravat  and  a  shirt  of 
fine  Unen,  which  softened  his  somewhat  formal 
costume.  He  looked  not  unlike  the  portrait  of 
Dean  Stanley  which  hangs  in  your  study,  and  evi- 
dently belonged  to  the  same  period  or  a  httle 
later.  His  face  showed  breeding  and  was  one  that 
would  attract  attention.  It  lacked,  however,  the 
high  intelligence  of  Stanley,  being  rather  weak — 
indeed  almost  self-indulgent — ^in  a  refined  way. 
Suddenly  I  recalled  him.  It  was  the  Rev.  Henry 
Waitland,  rector  of  a  fashionable  West-end 
"Chapel  of  Ease."  I  had  last  seen  him  when  I 
was  in  college,  at  one  of  John  Ropes's  Sunday 
dinners.  I  remembered  that  I  had  been  told  that 
he  was  a  well-known  man  in  London,  a  friend  of 
Ellen  Terry's  and  other  celebrities.  Indeed,  he 
had  the  reputation  of  being  more  interested  in 
the  drama  than  in  divinity !  I  thought  it  might 
please  Ruth  to  meet  him,  so  I  strolled  over  and 
introduced  myself,  reminding  him  of  our  last 
meeting. 

He  was  polite,  but  not  enthusiastic.  Indeed  I 
was  reminded  of  the  remark  of  the  "con  man" 
on  the  steamer!  However,  when  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Ruth,  and  learned  she  was  my  wife, 
he  seemed  to  think  better  of  us,  and  asked  to  be 
presented. 

[  193  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

When  we  had  talked  a  Httle  about  Boston  and 
he  found  that  Ruth  knew  the  right  people,  he 
thawed  out  and  began  to  talk  about  London  and 
the  distinguished  people  he  had  known.  It  was 
most  interesting  to  hear  about  the  people  one 
knew  from  books  and  get  the  impressions  of  an 
eye-witness. 

Ruth  asked  him  what  a  "Queen's  chaplain" 
was?  He  laughed  and  said  it  was  a  man  who 
had  to  leave  his  own  congregation  and  go  to 
Windsor  to  preach  before  the  Queen  whenever 
"commanded."  Ruth  remarked  that  she  should 
think  that  would  be  a  bore.  But  he  said  it  was 
an  honor.  This  sounded  like  a  snub,  but  was 
evidently  intended  only  as  a  statement  of  fact. 

"Still,"  he  added,  "I  will  not  deny  that  it  is 
sometimes  inconvenient.  For  instance:  A  few 
years  ago  I  was  summoned  to  preach  the  Easter 
sermon  before  her  Majesty,  and  would  much  have 
preferred  to  stop  at  home  for  that  day.  How- 
ever, I  went  to  Windsor,  and  found  that  my  old 
friend  Ponsonby  was  to  take  the  service,  but  as 
I  was  to  preach  he  suggested  that  I  read  the 
gospel.  But  imagine  my  surprise  when,  instead 
of  saying  the  collect  for  Easter,  he  said  a  collect 
which  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  recall,  or 
rather  could  not  tell  to  what  Sunday  it  belonged  I 
You  may  imagine  my  embarrassment  I  I  said  to 
myself:  'Whatever  shall  I  do.^  Shall  I  read  the 
[  194  ] 


THE  CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  QUEEN 

Gospel  for  Easter,  or  shall  I  match  Ponsonby?' 
It  seemed  the  decent  thing  to  stand  by  him,  but 
then  I  said  to  myself,  'How  can  I  match  Pon- 
sonby,  when  I  don't  know  this  minute  what 
Epistle  he  is  now  reading  ? '  And  then  I  said  to 
myself:  'You  have  nothing  to  do  with  Ponsonby. 
You  have  been  commanded  to  preach  before  her 
Majesty  on  Easter  Day,  and  your  business  is  to 
read  the  service  appointed  for  that  day!'  And 
that  is  what  I  did. 

"After  service  the  Queen  sent  for  me,  and  after 
saying  a  few  pleasant  things,  added :  *  I  was  both 
astonished  and  annoyed  that  Mr.  Ponsonby 
should  not  have  read  the  Collect  for  Easter.'  I 
didn't  want  to  be  unfair  to  Ponsonby,  but  I  said: 
'You  may  imagine  my  feeling,  ma'am,  when  I 
heard  a  collect  for  I  did  not  know  what  day,  and 
though  I  said  to  myself  "Shall  I  match  Pon- 
sonby.^" I  did  think  it  best  to  read  the  collect 
appointed  for  the  day.' 

"'You  were  quite  right,'  said  the  Queen,  'and 
I  shall  tell  Mr.  Ponsonby  how  much  I  dislike  any 
deviation  from  the  appointed  service.' 

"So  you  see,"  he  added,  "that  honors  have 
their  burdens." 

Now  I  ask  you,  has  TroUope  any  clerical  story 
to  equal  this? 


[195] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

XXXIII 

THE  RETIRED  COLONEL 

We  took  many  lovely  drives,  using  Betts-y- 
Coed  as  a  centre,  but  as  you  have  done  it  all  on 
foot  you  will  not  want  to  listen  to  my  raptures, 
so  I  will  again  tell  you  about  the  people  I  met. 

I  had  not  cared  to  go  to  Llandidno,  for  it  is  the 
paradise  of  trippers,  but  John  the  porter  told  me 
we  ought  not  to  miss  it,  so  thither  we  went.  The 
sands  were  a  sight  never  to  be  forgotten.  Hun- 
dreds of  children  were  on  the  beach,  the  little 
ones  laboriously  building  houses,  forts,  and  even 
towns — all  of  which  the  lapping  sea  soon  Hcked 
up.  "Vanity  of  vanities,"  saith  the  preacher: 
But  the  preacher  knew  nothing  of  children,  else 
he  would  have  said  they  were  the  only  wise  ones. 
Their  play  is  not  "vanity,"  it  is  when  men  lose 
the  sense  of  proportion,  and  act  as  if  things  "seen" 
are  eternal,  that  vanity  eats  out  the  heart.  These 
children  were  wise.  They  knew  their  labor  was 
but  for  a  moment,  and  therefore  did  not  weep, 
but  rather  laughed,  when  the  tongue  of  the  sea 
touched  their  work  and  it  was  gone.  However 
you  do  not  Ccire  to  hear  me  moralize ! 

Surely  no  more  beautiful  children  can  be  found 
in  the  world  than  these  English  children.  They 
may  lack  the  vivacity  of  French  and  American 
[  196] 


THE  RETIRED  COLONEL 


children,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  free 
from  the  self-consciousness  of  the  one  and  the 
febrile  nervousness  of  the  other.  They  are  su- 
perb Kttle  animals,  which  is  what  a  child  ought  to 
be.  Those  that  I  saw  on  the  sands — and  I  sup- 
pose it  is  generally  true — had  the  supreme  animal 
virtue,  which  is  obedience.  The  babies  obeyed 
the  nurses,  the  "middle-sized  bears"  obeyed  the 
"big  bears,"  and  all  obeyed — not  as  with  us — the 
mother,  but  the  father.  For  it  is  the  man  who 
is  the  supreme  court  in  England.  One  never  hears 
the  famihar  "Well,  ask  your  mother  I"  And 
the  result  is  a  well-organized  feudal  society,  in 
which  there  is  far  more  happiness  than  in  many 
of  the  so-called  democratic,  but  really  anarchistic, 
families  that  you  and  I  could  name.  In  short, 
the  family  is  a  microcosm  of  that  larger  hfe  in 
which,  some  day,  the  children  are  to  take  their 
places. 

When  I  imparted  these  reflections  to  Ruth,  she 
said:  "You  have  missed  the  best." 

"And  what  might  that  be,  Madame  Philos- 
opher?" said  I. 

"If  you  had  not  set  up  to  be  a  philosopher, 
yourself,"  she  pertly  remarked,  "you  would  have 
seen  the  obvious,  which  so  many  philosophers 
overlook.  It  is  the  hair  and  the  eyes  of  these 
children  that  makes  them  so  beautiful.  Did  you 
ever  see  such  hair  as  these  girls  have  ?  It  floats 
[197] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

in  the  air  like  the  corn-silk  on  an  Indiana  farm ! 
And  look  at  the  eyes  of  the  boys;  they  are  not 
blue  as  we  count  blueness,  but  real  blue,  like  the 
delphinium.  I  wonder  if  the  Enghsh  reputation 
for  truthfulness  above  other  nations  is  not  in 
part  due  to  the  prevaihng  blue  eyes  ?  Who  could 
doubt  anything  that  angel  were  to  say?" 

I  looked  at  the  "angel"  in  question,  and  laughed 
heartily  at  this  attempt  to  imitate  Taine ! 

The  people  on  the  sands  were  not  trippers. 
Those  hung  round  the  shops  and  the  booths,  where, 
for  a  penny,  one  might  take  a  shy  at  "Aunt  Sally." 
Or,  if  they  came  to  the  sands  at  all,  gathered  in 
shrieking  groups  about  the  "niggers,"  men 
blacked  up,  indeed,  but  whose  yellow  hair  and 
blue  eyes  made  disguise  as  impossible  as  did  their 
cockney  accent.  Why  is  it,  I  wonder,  that  all 
people  think  they  can  imitate  negroes.*^  I  once 
saw  a  minstrel  show  given  by  Chinamen,  and,  I 
assure  you,  it  was  scarcely  more  grotesque  than 
these  "niggers"  on  the  sands. 

No,  my  friends  were  not  such  as  these.  They 
were  what  Matthew  Arnold,  in  his  supercihous 
way,  called  "Philistines."  But  I  miss  my  guess 
if,  should  a  great  crisis  arise,  the  "cultiu-e"  of 
England  will  not  be  saved,  if  saved  it  is,  by  these 
same  Phihstines,  even  as  David  of  old  was  saved 
by  the  bearers  of  the  name  from  the  tyranny  of 
Saul  I  "The  submerged  tenth,"  in  England,  as 
[  198] 


THE  RETIRED  COLONEL 


elsewhere,  is  green  or  rotten;  the  upper  classes 
are  over-ripe;  it  is  the  great  middle  class,  without 
charm  or  culture,  which  will  show  what  England's 
heart  is,  when  the  great  struggle  comes. 

"But,"  you  will  say,  "what  struggle?  Only 
a  httle  while  ago  you  were  writing  that  you 
thought  all  this  talk  about  war  was  nothing  but 
what  you  elegantly  called  'fluff,'  and  now  you 
write  as  if  an  ultimatum  from  one  of  the  great 
powers  was  imminent.  What  has  happened  to 
change  your  tune.^^" 

In  reply,  I  can  only  say  "Nothing  tangible." 
But  there  is  a  tension  which  one  comes  gradually 
to  feel.  For  instance,  the  German  contempt  and 
hatred  of  England  is  too  well  known  to  call  for 
comment.  It  is  like  what  my  father  told  me  our 
Southern  friends  felt  about  the  North  in  the  days 
before  the  outbreak  of  war,  and  which  he  felt 
had  as  much  to  do  with  secession  as  did  slavery. 
But  few  people  with  us  appreciate  the  feehng  in 
England  toward  the  Germans.  Business  men  are 
exasperated  by  Germany's  expanding  trade — 
especially  in  regard  to  trade-marks — the  states- 
men, even  of  the  Liberal  school,  are  anxious  about 
the  naval  activities  across  the  North  Sea.  But 
more  significant  still  is  the  fact  that  some  of  the 
"best-seUing"  novels  and  most  popular  plays  are 
picturing  the  invasion  of  England  by  Germany. 
This,  of  course,  appeals  most  strongly  to  the 
I  199] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

Jingoes,  but  even  such  a  respectable — if  semi- 
chauvinistic — paper  as  the  Spectator  is  solemnly 
discussing  an  "amicable"  division  of  the  "back- 
ward" world — ^including  Brazil,  to  which,  said  the 
writer — it  was  a  leading  article — "we  should  have 
no  objection."  Shades  of  Monroe!  And  yet, 
while  they  do  not  seem  to  think  we  should  have 
any  voice  in  the  partition  of  the  world,  they  are 
apparently  convinced  that  we  must  feel  about  the 
mother  country  as  Canada  does.  The  truth  is, 
the  people  of  England  have  never  recognized  the 
independence  of  the  United  States !  That  is  to 
say,  they  cannot  beheve  that  we  do  not  regret  the 
Revolution  as  sincerely  as  they  now  do,  and  that, 
were  it  possible,  we  should  be  glad  to  enter  into 
a  closer  pohtical  association  with  them.  In  other 
words,  while  the  fact  of  our  independence  must 
be  assumed  by  the  two  governments,  our  senti- 
ments must  be  colonial ! 

A  few  days  ago  I  was  talking  with  a  retired 
colonel,  who  is  convinced  that  war  may  break 
out  any  day,  and  he  said  to  me:  "I  suppose  if 
the  old  country  had  her  back  to  the  wall  you 
would  come  to  her  help.*^" 

I  answered:  "I  do  not  think  you  could  count 
on  it.  It  would  depend  a  good  deal  on  the  cause 
of  the  quarrel.  There  was  a  strong  feeHng  against 
England  during  the  Boer  War,  and  there  are 
thousands  of  Americans  of  pure  British  stock 
[  200  ] 


THE  RETIRED  COLONEL 


who  do  not  think  that  Ireland  has  had  a  fair 
deal." 

He  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  as  if  he  could 
not  credit  his  ears,  and  then  simply  said:  "My 
G— d!" 

Had  I  known  how  deeply  it  would  wound  him, 
I  would  not  have  spoken.  Certainly  the  thought 
of  war  between  us  and  England  is  too  horrible  to 
put  into  words,  and  I  dare  say  if  there  were  a 
possibility  of  England's  being  crushed  by  a  world 
power  the  superficial  differences  would  be  swept 
away  hke  the  sand-forts  of  the  children,  and  deep 
would  call  to  deep  as  it  was  recognized  that  the 
two  peoples  share  a  common  ideal,  and  that  it 
must  be  defended  for  the  good  of  mankind.  You 
know  how  I  feel  about  war,  yet  I  confess  that 
should  there  be  a  righteous  war  in  which  Eng- 
land and  America  fought  side  by  side  it  might 
not  only  remove  the  petty  misunderstandings  of 
the  past  but  also  lead  to  an  abiding  peace  in  the 
future.  If  only  England  could  see  that  the  Irish 
question  is  an  American  question ! 

Meanwhile,  I  wish  the  Times  would  let  Germany 
alone,  and  English  travellers  let  us  alone  for  a 
while! 

Dr.  Weir  Mitchell  once  told  me  that  he  had  a 
patient— a  pohceman  from  somewhere  in  the  Jer- 
seys— Newark,  I  think — who  was  a  victim  of  an 
idSe  fixe.  He  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  been 
[201] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

bitten  by  a  mosquito?  The  man,  with  a  wan 
smile,  said:  "What  do  you  think?" 

"Very  good,"  said  Dr.  Mitchell.  "When  you 
let  it  alone  it  soon  ceased  to  trouble  you,  but  if 
you  scratched  it  it  festered,  and  you  had  a  hard 
time.     You  must  quit  scratching  this  thought!'* 

But  what  was  the  poor  fellow  to  do  if  every 
passer-by  scratched  it? 


XXXIV 

A  PROBLEM  IN  CASUISTRY 

Well,  we  now  have  the  Celt  with  a  vengeance  I 
Cork  is  the  most  detestable  place  I  ever  saw. 
Such  drunkenness,  filth,  and  squalor  I  never 
dreamed  possible  outside  of  China!  Ardent 
Home  Ruler  as  I  am,  I  can  now  understand  the 
Ulsterman's  fear  and  hatred  of  a  rule  that  might 
turn  Belfast  into  such  a  dunghill !  You  will  say, 
and  no  doubt  you  are  right,  that  this  shows  a 
lack  of  faith,  and  that  thrift  drives  out  filth.  But 
sometimes  it  works  the  other  way.  At  any  rate, 
one  cannot  wonder  that  the  Ulsterman  should 
think  that  not  faith  like  a  mustard-seed,  but  hke 
a  mountain,  would  be  needed  to  enable  a  man  to 
beheve  that  Protestant  Ulster  can  be  benefited  by 
an  alliance  with  Dubhn  and  Cork.  However, 
[  202  ] 


A  PROBLEM  IN  CASUISTRY 


this  is  supposed  to  be  the  chronicle  of  a  car  and 
not  a  new  treatise  on  the  Irish  Question. 

When  we  were  at  Chester  I  bought  a  "shcker," 
which  the  salesman  called  a  "shirt,"  and  by  that 
name  it  has  gone  between  us  ever  since.  As  you 
may  fancy,  it  has  proved  a  useful  article  when  I 
tell  you  that  here,  "The  rain  it  raineth  every 
day,"  not  all  the  time,  of  course,  but  when  one 
least  expects  it.  The  very  sun  is  wet !  But  when 
it  shines  the  landscape  has  the  same  sweet  expres- 
sion that  one  sees  on  the  face  of  a  dear  little  girl 
who  has  shed  a  few  tears  and  is  again  smiling. 

The  morning  we  left  Killarney  it  was  not  rain- 
ing like  that,  but  coming  down  in  torrents.  In- 
deed we  were  the  only  travellers  who  faced  the 
storm.  A  good  part  of  the  company  assembled 
on  the  porch  to  see  us  start.  The  hood  was  up, 
so  that  Ruth  could  not  see  me  as  I  went  to  the 
rear  of  the  motor  to  see  if  the  chains  were  tight, 
but,  ever  solicitous  of  my  welfare,  she  called  out 
in  an  agonized  tone:  "John,  have  you  got  your 
shirt  on.^" 

To  which  I  replied:  "I  am  not  sure.  I  slept 
in  it,  but  whether  I  put  it  on  again  after  my  bath, 
I  can't  remember !" 

You  never  saw  a  crowd  melt  away  so  suddenly  I 

One  lady   ejaculated   "  Fancy  1"   and  one  man 

laughed  and  waited  to  wave  us  farewell.    He,  I 

had  been  told,  was  a  duke.    I  do  not  know  if  it 

[  203  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

were  true.  In  Ireland  one  is  never  quite  sure 
what  is  true.  And,  what  is  worse,  or  better,  if 
you  feel  that  way,  I  am  unable  to  tell  a  duke  from 
the  commonalty ! 

Ruth  says  there  is  nothing  funny  in  this  story, 
and  that  I  acted  as  if  I  hved  on  Second  Avenue ! 
Well,  I  can't  tell.  It  made  a  duke  laugh — ^if  he 
were  a  duke — and  that  is  no  small  feat ! 

The  atmosphere  soon  showed  the  Celtic  tem- 
perament. Or  is  it  the  other  way  about,  and  is 
temperament  a  natural  reaction  to  atmosphere? 
At  any  rate  the  sun  soon  shone  fair  and  warm, 
and  the  conditions  for  motoring  would  have  been 
perfect  had  the  roads  been  better.  Unfortunately 
not  only  is  the  surface  bad,  but  the  roads  are 
very  narrow — a  new  danger — of  which  we  were 
soon  to  have  experience. 

We  were  running  along  at  a  fair  gait — Ruth 
says  racing! — when  suddenly,  at  a  turn  in  the 
road  I  found  myself  under  the  feet  of  a  team  of 
horses,  which  loomed  up  like  elephants.  It  was 
too  late  to  turn,  so  I  acted  automatically,  cer- 
tainly without  conscious  vohtion,  and  threw  the 
car  into  a  hedge.  It  was  a  stout  one,  and  the 
car  rose  like  a  hunter  and  came  to  rest  on  the 
top,  which  held  it!  No,  this  is  not  an  "Irish" 
story,  only  a  story  of  Ireland. 

A  gentleman  was  walking  across  the  field  and 
ran  to  our  assistance.  Gallant  Irishman  that  he 
[  204  ] 


A  PROBLEM  IN  CASUISTRY 


was  he  asked  no  questions,  but  assisted  Ruth  to 
descend.  She  was  deathly  pale,  but,  I  am  proud 
to  say,  neither  screamed  nor  indeed  spoke.  Some 
laborers  gathered  and  helped  to  drag  the  car  back 
onto  the  road,  none  the  worse,  so  far  as  I  could 
see,  for  its  strange  adventure,  save  for  a  few 
scratches. 

I  now  turned  my  attention  to  the  driver  of  the 
cart,  who  all  this  time  had  remained  upon  his 
high  perch,  gazing  at  our  efforts  like  a  god  upon 
Olympus,  "careless  of  mankind." 

"My  friend,"  I  began,  in  as  quiet  a  voice  as  I 
could  control,  "that  came  near  being  a  nasty 
accident." 

"It  did  that,  your  honor." 

"You  came  near  having  both  those  horses 
killed." 

"That  would  have  cost  your  honor  a  pretty 
penny,  for  the  likes  of  them  can't  be  found  in  the 
county.  Sure  the  gentleman  standin'  there  will 
tell  you  they  took  the  first  prize  at  Dublin  not  a 
year  ago." 

"Well,  you  are  pretty  cool  about  it.  The  lady 
might  have  been  killed,  too." 

"That  would  have  been  a  pity,  for  it's  a  sweet 
face  she  has.  I  was  wondering  she'd  risk  her  life 
with  you." 

"Risk  her  hfe  with  me  I  Why,  you  impudent 
fellow,"  I  cried,  being  by  this  time  thoroughly 
[  205  1 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

angry,  "  the  fault  was  all  yours.  You  were  on  the 
wrong  side  of  the  road." 

"Well,  as  for  that,  your  honor,"  rephed  this 
incorrigible  fellow,  "this  road's  that  narrer,  it 
ain't  properly  got  two  sides !^^ 

I  could  think  of  nothing  better  to  say  than 
that  I  would  report  him  to  the  pohce  in  the  next 
town,  and  took  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the  cart, 
which  was  painted  in  large  letters  on  the  side.  I 
did  stop  and  report  the  matter  to  a  policeman 
who  was  directing  the  traffic  in  a  town  near  by. 
He  was  sympathetic,  and  said: 

"I  know  that  man  well,  and  the  next  time  he 
comes  to  market,  I  will  represent  him  to  himself!" 
This  was  all  the  satisfaction  I  got.  Indeed,  I 
suspect  it  is  as  much  as  could  be  expected  in  Ire- 
land. After  all,  it  was  worth  something  to  in- 
crease one's  stock  of  phrases.  To  represent  a 
man  to  himself  is  no  small  feat ! 

A  Httle  later  I  got  from  Ruth  a  new  light  on 
Irish  veracity — or  rather,  lack  of  it.  She  says  it 
arises  from  no  evil  motive,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
from  kindness  of  heart !  This,  she  added,  makes 
it  different  from  any  other  lying  in  the  world. 
This  moral,  or  immoral,  dictum  was  called  forth 
by  the  following:  I  had  lost  my  way — no  un- 
common experience — and  stopped  at  a  hovel 
to  inquire  the  way.  In  answer  to  my  call  a 
veritable  giant  appeared.  I  asked  if  the  road 
[  206  ] 


A  PROBLEM  IN  CASUISTRY 


we  were  on  would  bring  us  to  Blarney  Castle? 
After  a  moment's  hesitation  he  said  it  would. 
Not  feehng  sure  he  knew,  I  asked  again  if  there 
was  any  turning  I  must  take?  But  he  said: 
"No,  keep  straighton  this  road  and  it  will  bring 
you  there." 

There  was  something  in  the  man's  face  that 
led  me  to  think  he  could  not  be  an  ordinary 
peasant,  and  therefore  I  asked  him  if  he  lived 
there  ? 

"I  was  born  here,"  he  replied,  rather  defiantly. 
"But  I've  been  hving  in  Austraha  for  the  past 
seven  years,  and  have  now  come  back  to  see  the 
old  people." 

I  said  to  myself  that,  unlike  most  Irishmen 
when  they  migrate,  he  had  not  bettered  himself. 
As  if  he  read  my  thought,  as  perhaps  he  did,  he 
added,  with  a  glance  at  his  old  and  torn  clothing: 
"I've  better  clothes  than  these,  but  why  would 
I  be  wearing  them  to  shame  the  neighbors !" 

Could  Sir  Phihp  Sidney  have  said  anything 
finer  ? 

"Well,"  I  said,  as  I  started  the  motor,  "when 
I  next  come  here  you'll  have  Home  Rule !" 

At  that  the  man's  whole  face  lighted  up,  and 
he  cried:  "Glory  be  to  God,  ye're  a  prophet  1 
What's  your  name?"  When  I  answered  "Dob- 
son,"  without  a  moment's  hesitation  he  exclaimed: 
"I've  heerd  of  you!" 

[  207  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

I  laughed  and  said:  "I  see  you've  kissed  the 
Blarney  stone  yourself." 

But  there  was  no  jocular  reply.  The  thing  was 
too  serious  for  that.  The  man  was  inflamed. 
Why  cannot  the  Enghsh  appreciate  that  the  love 
of  nationality  is  inextinguishable  ? 

The  rain  began  again  and  fell  persistently  and  we 
shthered  on  our  way.  It's  a  long  lane  that  has  no 
turning,  and  this  was  one,  though  it  did  nothing  but 
turn.  Always  it  was  leading  to  the  right,  though  I 
felt  it  should  lead  straight  on  or  else  bear  to  the  left. 

Finally  we  came  to  a  highway  that  somehow 
looked  familiar,  and  before  we  had  gone  a  mile 
farther,  I  found  that  we  were  where  we  had  st£u*ted 
from  an  hour  before !  There  was  the  wretched 
hovel  where  the  giant  dwelt,  and  a  vigorous  shout 
brought  him  to  the  door. 

"See  here,  my  friend,"  I  cried,  "what  did  you 
mean  by  teUing  me  that  that  road  would  lead  to 
Blarney  Castle  .►^  I  have  kept  on  it  all  the  time, 
and  it  has  brought  me  back  here." 

"Now  ain't  that  a  shame .^  I  never  thought 
such  a  thing  would  happen  to  you.  Now  I'll  tell 
you  God's  truth.  You  was  clean  out  of  your  way 
when  you  was  last  here.  You  ought  to  have  left 
the  road  you  are  on  this  minute  as  much  as  seven 
miles  back.  And  when  you  asked  me  if  yonder 
road  would  lead  to  Blarney  Castle,  and  I  looked 
at  the  lovely  face  of  the  lady,  and  she  lookin' 
[  208  ] 


A  PROBLEM  IN  CASUISTRY 


tired,  too,  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  tell  you  you  must 
turn  back.  I  thought  when  you  got  on  this  road 
again  ye  would  have  turned  the  other  way,  and 
not  have  lost  so  much  anyway.  And  how  was  I 
to  know  you  wouldn't  meet  a  man  who  wouldn't 
mind  teUing  bad  news,  and  who  would  set  you  on 
your  way  P  But  as  for  me,  I  hadn't  the  heart  to 
doit!" 

And  that's  what  Ruth  calls  "lying  from  a  kind 
heart!"  A  cynic  might  suggest  that  the  "lovely 
lady"  had  something  to  do  with  this  charitable 
if  immoral  dictum ! 

Well,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  turn  back 
and  drive  for  the  third  time  over  a  road  I  had 
come  to  hate.  About  seven  miles  back  we  found 
the  proper  turning,  and,  after  much  splashing, 
came  to  Blarney  Castle. 

I  did  not  kiss  the  stone,  for  I  had  no  desire  to 
get  a  water-spout  down  the  back  of  my  neck  by 
leaning  out  of  the  window — as  you  may  remem- 
ber one  must  do — to  perform  the  feat.  Indeed  I 
thought  there  was  force  in  Lord  Chesterfield's 
advice  to  his  son,  when  he  said  he  intended  to  go 
down  into  a  coal-mine: 

"What  for .3"  asked  the  noble  lord. 

"Why,  to  say  I  have  been  down  one!" 

"Why  not  say  it.^^"  he  replied. 

Indeed  I  am  incHned  to  think  that  is  what  a 
good  many  people  have  done  at  Blarney  I 
[  209  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

XXXV 

A  DAY  OF  TROUBLE  AND  DISTRESS 

Whether  because  I  did  not  kiss  the  Blarney 
stone,  or  for  some  other  reason,  the  next  day  was 
one  of  trouble  and  distress.  Indeed,  it  came 
near  being  our  last  day.  For  several  days  I  had 
noticed  that  the  self-starter  was  not  working  well. 
Several  times  it  had  failed  to  catch  and  required 
a  good  deal  of  coaxing.  I  could  not  understand 
it,  for  it  was  not  yet  three  weeks  since  I  had  filled 
the  batteries  with  water,  which,  I  had  been  told, 
was  all  that  was  necessary  to  insure  its  function- 
ing. I  thought  that  possibly  the  damp  weather 
had  affected  the  electrical  current,  and  could  only 
hope  that  with  clearing  weather  there  would  be 
no  further  trouble.  But  at  the  next  stop  the 
little  engine  refused  to  act  at  all,  and  I  had  to 
unpack  the  handle  and  crank,  which  is  an  exer- 
cise good  for  neither  the  back  nor  the  temper ! 

A  httle  later  we  came  to  a  road  which  branched 
from  the  highway  to  the  left,  and  Ruth,  who  had 
charge  of  the  map,  called  out:  *'To  the  right.'* 
I  leave  it  to  you:  would  not  you  have  thought 
that  meant  to  turn  somewhere  ?  If  not,  why  not 
say:  "Keep  straight  on."  At  any  rate,  I  turned 
sharp  into  the  left-hand  road,  only  to  find  that 
we  were  in  a  cul-de-sac.  Turning  was  impossible, 
[210] 


A  DAY  OF  TROUBLE  AND  DISTRESS 

so  I  kept  on,  wondering  why  Ruth,  who  must 
have  known  how  tired  I  was,  should  have  driven 
me  into  such  a  place ! 

Finally,  we  came  to  a  gate,  and  as  I  did  not  dare 
leave  the  car  lest  it  stall — ^we  were  on  an  incline 
which  tipped  the  car  back  and  made  cranking 
difficult — I  asked  Ruth  to  get  out  and  open  the 
gate.  I  saw  that  just  beyond  there  was  a  place 
where,  with  great  care  the  car  might  be  tm-ned, 
but  where  the  chances  of  stalling  were  great. 
Still,  I  thought,  if  I  could  keep  the  car  going  I 
might  manage  it.  I  called  to  Ruth  not  to  get 
in  and  began  slowly  to  turn.  The  road  was  just 
the  width  of  the  wheels,  with  a  bog  on  each  side. 
Looking  up  I  saw  a  huge  dog  lying  in  the  way. 
It  was  as  ugly  a  looking  brute  as  one  would 
wish  to  see,  even  if  it  was  chained.  I  blew  the 
horn.  It  did  not  stir.  Then,  to  my  horror,  I 
saw  Ruth,  who  is  more  afraid  of  a  dog  than  I  am 
of  a  cat,  which  is  saying  a  good  deal,  seize  the 
brute  by  the  tail  and  begin  to  drag  it  out  of  the 
way  I  I  [turned  sick  with  terror,  and,  under  the 
nervous  strain,  did  what  I  have  not  done  since 
I  was  in  college — swore.  "Damnation,"  I  cried, 
"turn  that  dog  loose!"  And  Ruth,  equally  ex- 
cited, answered  in  a  fine  frenzy:  "I  would  puU 
him  if  he  were  a  mad  bull  I" 

Fortunately,  the  dog  made  no  resistance,  ana 
the  car  was  safely  turned.  Had  it  stalled,  I  do 
.  [  211  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

not  know  what  I  should  have  done,  for  I  was 
"allm." 

One  would  have  thought  this  was  enough  for 
one  day,  but  worse  was  yet  to  come.  About  an 
hour  later  we  came  to  a  railway  crossing.  All 
the  level  crossings  are  not  on  Long  Island !  There 
are  several  in  Ireland !  This  one  was  kept  by  a 
woman,  with,  I  think,  the  saddest  face  I  ever  saw. 
She  opened  the  gate  and  thanked  me  for  the  six- 
pence I  handed  her,  but  neither  smiled  nor  spoke. 

We  passed  onto  the  track  and,  probably  because 
I  was  so  tired  and  was  driving  carelessly,  we 
stalled.  I  was  about  to  get  out  to  crank  when 
the  woman  appeared  at  my  side,  and  said,  so 
quietly  that  Ruth  could  not  hear:  "It  would 
maybe  be  better  if  the  lady  got  out.  The  DubUn 
express  is  due  round  the  curve  at  any  minute  1" 
Could  anything  have  been  more  considerate.^ 
Had  she  screamed,  I  fear  I  should  have  been  so 
unnerved  that  we  should  have  been  lost. 

At  that  moment  the  engine  of  the  approaching 
train  gave  a  shriek  and  I  could  feel  the  rails  vi- 
brate. My  blood  turned  to  water.  We  were 
pinned  under  the  hood,  and  escape  seemed  im- 
possible. Almost  without  knowing  what  I  was 
doing,  I  stamped  on  the  pedal  of  the  self-starter, 
and — I  say  it  reverently — ^by  the  mercy  of  God 
it  caught,  and  we  shd  off  the  track  as  the  express 
thundered  by  I 

[212] 


A  DAY  OF  TROUBLE  AND  DISTRESS 

The  rushing  wind  nearly  blew  us  out  of  the 
motor.  There  could  not  have  been  a  yard  be- 
tween us  and  the  train.  I  looked  at  Ruth.  She 
was  as  pale  as  death,  but  spoke  no  word.  You 
may  be  sure  I  did  not  forget  a  thank-offering  to 
the  poor  gatekeeper,  who  was  white  with  terror. 

As  we  went  on  our  way  I  said  to  myself:  "If 
ever  we  reach  an  inn  in  safety,  I  will  give  the  car 
away.  The  impudent  driver  who  said  he  won- 
dered Ruth  would  risk  her  hfe  with  me  was  right." 

Rut  it  was  long  before  we  reached  an  inn,  for 
I  lost  my  way!  This  time  it  was  not  Ruth's 
fault.  She  was  probably  so  shaken  that  she 
could  not  see  the  way;  at  any  rate  she  gave  me 
the  wrong  road,  and  we  wandered  over  the  lulls 
until  we  were  nearly  distracted.  When  we 
reached  Ross  late  at  night  you  may  beUeve  neither 
of  us  had  much  appetite  for  the  greasy  supper 
which  was  set  before  us. 

Suddenly,  without  a  word  of  warning,  Ruth 
put  her  head  down  on  the  table  and  burst  into 
tears  I  It  was  so  unlike  her  that  I  was  dreadfully 
frightened.  I  got  her  to  bed  and  put  a  hot-water 
bottle  to  her  feet,  and  sat  by  her  till  she  was 
more  quiet,  and  then  went  outside  in  the  rain  to 
smoke  a  pipe,  and  "represent  myself  to  myself." 
When  I  had  flagellated  myself  for  all  my  ill  temper, 
and  returned  thanks  for  the  mercies  of  the  day, 
I  too  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep  for  many  an 
[213] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

hour.  When  at  last  I  did  fall  asleep,  it  was  only 
to  dream  of  a  huge  dog,  rushing  down  a  railroad 
track,  whistling  Hke  a  locomotive  and  breathing 
streams  of  fire  from  his  mouth.  It  doesn't  take 
a  Freud  to  interpret  that  dream  I 

In  spite  of  my  troubled  night,  or  perhaps  in 
consequence  of  it,  I  woke  early.  The  sun  was 
streaming  into  my  bedroom  as  if  to  say:  "Slug- 
gard, arise.  I  was  only  fooling  yesterday  when 
I  pretended  that  Ireland  had  a  rainy  climate. 
To-day  is  like  Italy,  and  even  the  dirty  streets  of 
Ross  are  beautiful!" 

My  mind  was  quickly  made  up,  and  as  soon  as 
I  was  dressed  I  made  my  way  to  the  station  and 
found  that  I  could  ship  the  motor  to  DubHn  on 
a  flat  car  and  that  it  would  be  delivered  to  us 
there  the  next  morning.  So  I  returned  to  the 
garage  and  drove  to  the  station,  feeling  not  un- 
like Tartarin,  when  he  sold  the  chameau  for  a 
ticket  in  the  dihgence,  which,  Daudet  remarks, 
is  not  a  bad  use  to  make  of  a  camel ! 

Ruth  was  more  reheved,  I  am  sure,  than  she 
cared  to  show,  when  she  learned  that  she  might 
have  a  quiet  morning  in  bed  and  take  the  train 
for  DubUn  in  the  afternoon. 

As  we  entered  the  dining-room  of  the  Shel- 

bume  that  evening,  whom  should  we  meet  but 

the  Hodges?    This  was  a  joy  to  Ruth,  who,  I 

knew,  would  find  rest  in  telling  her  story  to  her 

[214  1 


A  DAY  OF  TROUBLE  AND  DISTRESS 

sympathetic  friend  Anne,  and  a  satisfaction  to 
me,  for  I  knew  there  was  nothing  about  motors 
hid  from  her  husband,  the  professor.  Indeed,  it 
was  he  who  had  advised  me  to  buy  a  Frontenac, 
though  he  himself  is  "a  man  who  owns  one,"  and 
was  driving  his  big  Packard,  with  comfort  and 
pride. 

When  he  had  recovered  from  his  hilarity  over 
my  experiences,  he  said  that  next  morning  we 
would  look  over  the  car  and  find  the  trouble  with 
the  self-starter,  while  Ruth  and  Anne  were  shop- 
ping for  linen  and  laces. 

The  car  was  ready  for  us  when  we  arrived  at 
the  Goods  station,  next  morning,  and  we  drove 
to  the  garage  for  a  consultation. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  wrong  with  the 
engine,  nor  with  the  connections,  but,  when  we 
examined  the  batteries,  we  found  that  they  had 
run  down!  I  explained  that  I  had  filled  them 
myself  not  two  weeks  ago,  but  when  the  professor 
saw  that  I  had  failed  to  note  the  date  on  the  Httle 
card  for  that  purpose,  it  was  evident  that  he  was 
sceptical.  Well,  there  was  nothing  more  to  do 
but  to  have  the  batteries  charged  again,  and  as 
the  man  of  the  garage  seemed  to  be  a  capable 
fellow,  I  hoped  I  should  have  no  more  trouble. 

We  spent  two  pleasant  days  in  Dublin,  saw 
where  Sir  Frederick  Cavendish  had  been  murdered 
— ^this  is  not  mentioned  as  one  of  the  pleasures  I 
[215] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

And  then  went  to  the  cathedral  and  thought  of 
the  savage  old  dean  whom  Thackeray  has  so 
wonderfully  described — perhaps  the  best  of  all 
his  portraits — then  to  Trinity  CoUege»  where  I 
confess,  Charles  O'Malley  was  more  real  to  me 
than  some  of  the  scholars  who  have  made  illus- 
trious that  ancient  seat  of  learning. 

The  professor  is  not  "sound"  on  Irish  politics, 
but  when  we  went  to  Dubhn  Castle  and  saw 
some  of  the  young  men  whom  England  sends  to 
govern  the  most  imaginative  people  on  earth, 
even  he  had  to  admit  that  things  might  be  im- 
proved I  Supercilious  good  manners  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  boredom  is  not  the  best  means  for  im- 
pressing the  Irish  with  the  intelligence,  nor  even 
with  the  justice,  of  England. 

The  weather  was  again  "set  fair,"  so  that  we 
left  Ireland  in  a  blaze  of  glory.  The  Hodges  were 
on  their  way  to  the  Giant's  Causeway.  But 
when  I  told  them  they  would  find  the  roads  bad, 
the  professor  remarked  that  no  doubt  all  the  roads 
were  bad  in  the  south,  and  that  when  Home  Rule 
went  into  effect  those  of  the  north  would  be 
equally  so,  but  that  while  the  Union  Jack  floated 
over  Belfast,  and  the  Protestant  rehgion  was  still 
a  power,  he  had  no  fear !  So  we  parted — perhaps 
it  was  time ! 

We  crossed  to  Hollyhead,  and,  the  car  running 
like  a  witch,  it  was  not  long  before  we  reached 
[216] 


"ONE  EVERY  MINUTE" 


the  Waterloo,  where  John  greeted  us  as  if  he  had 
not  thought  of  any  one  else  since  we  were  last 
there ! 


XXXVI 

"ONE  EVERY  MINUTE" 

The  self-starter  is  again  out  of  order !  I  found 
it  cheaper  to  pay  an  odd  man  a  shilling  each  time 
I  wanted  to  crank  than  to  break  my  back,  which 
is  what  I  did  on  our  way  to  Barchester. 

When  we  reached  the  hotel  there,  how  different 
was  our  reception  from  that  which  John  had  ac- 
corded us  at  the  Waterloo!  The  strictly  pohte 
and  equally  indifferent  young  woman  at  the  desk 
seemed  to  think  it  rather  a  bore  to  have  us  return 
to  them !  I  hear  there  is  an  old  coaching  inn  in 
that  town  where  they  receive  one  as  a  friend,  and 
if  I  ever  return  to  that  ancient  city  I  shall  go  there. 

I  took  the  car  to  the  garage  and  asked  the  man 
in  charge  if  he  thought  he  could  find  the  trouble. 
He  said  the  battery  was  run  down!  Instead  of 
saying  what  I  thought,  I  politely  remarked  that 
that  could  hardly  be  as  I  had  it  charged  less  than 
a  week  before  in  Dublin. 

"Dublin!"  he  exclaimed  contemptuously. 

Well,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  have  it 
charged  again — ^you  know  they  do  not  perform 
[  217  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

this  service  for  nothing — and  write  to  the  Fron- 
tenac  Co.,  in  London,  telling  them  what  I  thought 
of  this  invention  which  was  to  "revolutionize 
motoring." 

Their  answer  was  what  was  to  have  been  ex- 
pected. "Mine  was  the  first  complaint  they  had 
received.  Of  course  it  was  impossible  to  express 
an  opinion  as  to  the  cause  of  the  trouble  till  they 
had  examined  the  car  in  their  own  shops  in  Lon- 
don, etc."  There  was  a  postscript,  in  which  the 
writer  suggested  that  I  might  have  misused  the 
car  and  ruined  the  mechanism,  in  which  case  it 
would  be  necessary  to  install  a  new  generator  at 
a  cost  of  about  three  hundred  dollars ! 

This  struck  me  as  humorous,  for  by  this  time 
I  was  convinced  that  the  chauffeur  in  London 
who  had  said  that  all  changes  on  American 
cars  were  not  improvements  was  right.  How  I 
wished  I  had  one  of  those  well-balanced  foreign 
cars,  which  start  with  a  half  turn  of  the  handle, 
instead  of  one  of  these  new-fangled  "Yankee 
notions,"  which  promise  so  much  and  are  out  of 
order  half  the  time ! 

I  was  rather  low  in  my  mind  as  we  sat  in  the 
garden  after  dinner  and  discussed  our  plans. 
Should  we  go  on  to  Scotland,  as  we  had  intended, 
or  should  we  sell  the  car  for  what  it  would  bring, 
and  buy  an  EngHsh  one,  or  should  we  give  up 
and  go  on  the  Continent  and  travel  like  other  folk  ? 
[218] 


"ONE  EVERY  CANUTE " 


Ruth  cried  out  at  the  thought  of  seUmg  the 
car:  "Why,  I  love  it,"  she  cried,  and  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  giving  it  up.  "Surely  when 
the  agent  sees  it  he  will  be  able  to  find  the  trouble 
— ^it  really  may  be  something  very  simple,  after 
aU." 

"If  it  were  simple,"  I  gloomily  repHed,  "the 
professor  would  have  discovered  it.  He  knows 
all  there  is  to  know  about  a  motor." 

"No,"  she  answered,  "it  does  not  follow.  You 
know  how  often  you  have  said  the  great  special- 
ists are  so  anxious  to  find  some  abnormal  disease 
that  they  often  overlook  the  most  common  ex- 
planation.    It  may  be  the  same  now." 

Well,  there  was  nothing  that  could  be  done  till 
we  reached  London,  and  thither  we  planned  to 
start  the  next  morning,  or  as  soon  as  the  car  was 
charged. 

To  cheer  me  up  Ruth  now  told  me  of  her  con- 
versation in  this  same  garden  with  the  typical 
John  Bull,  of  which  she  said  she  had  written  you. 
While  I  was  feebly  smiling — I  was  still  too  un- 
happy to  laugh — a  telegram  was  brought  me 
which  had  Ruth's  name  in  full,  so  it  evidently 
was  intended  I  should  not  open  it  even  in  her 
absence. 

When  she  had  read  it,  she  said:  "What  do  you 
think.**  This  is  from  Maud,  saying  she  will  be 
here  in  the  morning,  and  asking  me  to  wait  for 
[219] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

her  as  she  wishes  to  see  me  on  a  matter  of  im- 
portance. Would  you  mind  starting  without  us 
and  let  me  follow  by  train  and  meet  you  in 
London?" 

I  have  my  faults  as  a  husband,  but  I  beheve 
Ruth  will  testify  that  I  am  not  one  of  those  who 
insist  upon  knowing  what  their  wives  have  in 
mind  when  they  are  not  telling  "the  whole  truth" ! 
So  I  said:  "Of  course  not."  And  so  it  was 
arranged. 

I  did  ask  if  she  would  hke  me  to  make  a  late 
start  so  as  to  be  here  when  her  sister  arrived. 
But  she  said  I  must  not  think  of  it.  So  then  I 
saw  I  was  to  know  nothing,  and  that  it  would 
conduce  to  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number  if  I  left  as  soon  as  possible. 

Fortunately  for  me,  the  battery  was  not  in 
process  of  being  charged,  for  the  man  said  he 
did  not  know  there  was  any  hurry!  So  I  was 
able  to  make  an  early  start.  I  cut  across  lots  and 
made  straight  for  Banbury,  where  I  stopped  at 
the  same  inn  which  had  so  charmed  me  on  a 
previous  visit,  an  inn  which  would  have  charmed 
— ^perhaps  did  charm — Dickens.  The  next  day 
I  went  again  through  Oxford,  and  so  to  London, 
entering  on  the  west  side,  which  I  had  learned 
was  the  easiest  of  the  many  gates  to  enter. 

When  I  reached  the  garage  of  the  Frontenac 
Co.,  the  manager  listened  to  my  tale  of  woe 
[  220  ] 


*;ONE  EVERY  MINUTE" 


with  patience,  but,  when  I  said  I  had  bought 
that  particular  make  of  car  because  I  had  been 
assured  by  the  salesman  that  it  was  warranted 
"fool  proof,"  dryly  remarked  that  every  war- 
rant had  a  hmit,  and  reminded  me  that  one  was 
"born  every  minute."  I  could  not  find  a  suit- 
able reply,  and  so  left  the  car  with  him,  promising 
to  return  the  next  day. 

By  way  of  distraction  I  went  that  night  to  one 
of  the  great  music-halls,  which  proved  to  be  a 
kind  of  glorified  "Keith's." 

Sarah  Bernhardt  was  the  attraction,  but  not 
to  me!  There  was  nothing  left,  it  seemed  to 
me,  but  the  mannerisms  of  the  second  empire, 
and  I  was  glad  when  she  left  the  stage.  Had  there 
been  nothing  else — such  as  acrobats  and  per- 
forming dogs,  both  of  which  I  delight  in — ^it  would 
have  been  worth  the  price  of  admission  to  see 
Chevallier  alone.    He  was  inimitable. 

It  would  pay  the  trustees  of  a  theological  semi- 
nary to  import  him  to  give  "The  Charity  Bazaar" 
before  the  class  in  pastoral  theology !  It  was  the 
most  disgusting  picture  of  the  sycophantic  priestly 
you  ever  saw.  The  people  screamed  with  laugh- 
ter— let  us  hope  because  it  was  a  caricature  and 
that  they  had  never  seen  the  original. 

"The  Vicar,"  dressed  in  the  latest  cry  in  "cleri- 
cals," is  supposed  to  be  receiving  the  guests  at 
a  Charity  Bazaar.  His  insolence  to  the  poor,  his 
[221] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

failure  to  "see"  the  unholy  dissenters,  his  cringing 
to  the  prosperous  and  his  crawling  before  the 
duchess,  who  was  the  last  to  arrive,  filled  me  with 
such  shame  that  I  had  to  shake  myself  to  remember 
that  it  was  acting,  and  that  I  was  not  called  upon 
to  make  any  remarks !  If  ever  again  you  see  me 
worshipping  the  Golden  Calf,  please  show  me 
this  letter!  It  was  a  positive  relief  when  the 
performing  dogs  came  on  the  stage. 

When  I  repaired  to  the  garage  next  day,  the 
manager  said  he  could  find  nothing  wrong  with 
the  car.  The  only  trouble  was  that  I  had  let 
the  battery  run  down.  I  sarcastically  remarked 
that  he  was  mistaken;  I  had  not  let  the  battery 
run  down,  it  had  run  down  of  itself,  and  that  that 
was  the  best  thing  it  did,  that  the  battery  had 
now  been  charged  three  times  in  two  weeks.  He 
said  that  the  local  garages  were  often  careless 
about  such  matters,  but  that  I  should  now  find 
that  it  was  all  right.  When  I  tried  it  I  found 
that  it  functioned  well,  but  as  I  could  not  start 
without  Ruth,  from  whom  I  had  heard  nothing 
since  leaving  Barchester,  I  decided  to  leave  the 
car  in  his  care  for  another  day  at  least. 

When  I  took  my  place  at  the  driver's  seat  next 
day,  I  insisted  that  the  manager  should  be  present 
before  I  tested  the  car  again.  So  he  was  sent 
for.  I  took  my  place  and  pressed  the  button. 
"Nothing  doing."  The  manager  suggested  that 
[  222  ] 


"ONE  EVERY  MINUTE" 


the  damp  weather  might  have  affected  the  cur- 
rent, and  asked  me  to  try  again.  This  I  did,  with 
the  same  result  as  before.  Then  the  manager 
tried,  but  it  simply  would  not  work. 

"What  do  you  think  is  the  matter .3"  I  said  to 
the  foreman,  who,  Hke  the  manager,  is  an  Amer- 
ican. 

He  laconically  replied:  "You  may  search  me." 

The  manager  said  nothing  and  I  viciously  re- 
marked: "Perhaps  the  battery  has  run  down. 
Some  of  these  garages  are  so  careless  I" 

He  started  to  say  something,  and  then  evi- 
dently thought  better  of  it.  After  a  moment  he 
said:  "Well,  I  simply  do  not  understand  it. 
You  saw  for  yourself  that  it  worked  perfectly 
two  days  ago.^" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "it  always  works  'perfectly'  im- 
mediately after  charging,  but  forty-eight  hours 
later  is  'dead.'  The  truth  is  the  thing  is  a  fail- 
ure." 

"There  will  not  be  an  American  car  on  the 
market  next  year  without  one.  They  all  follow 
the  lead  of  the  'Frontenac,'"  he  indignantly  re- 
plied. 

"This  one  will  not  lead  them  far,"  I  said,  being 
by  this  time  thoroughly  disgusted. 

"Our  chief  engineer  is  in  Scotland,  but  is  re- 
turning to-morrow.  If  you  will  leave  the  car 
here  I  will  have  him  go  over  it  from  headlights  to 
[  223  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

brake,  and  he  will  find  the  difficulty.  You  say 
it  always  runs  till  forty-eight  hours  after  charg- 
ing?" 

"Yes,  that  has  been  my  experience." 

"How  long  since  you  first  had  this  trouble.*^" 

"About  three  weeks." 

"Well,  there  is  evidently  nothing  mechanically 
wrong.  There  is  probably  a  leak  which  we  have 
not  been  able  to  locate,  and  there  the  current 
escapes.  If  he  cannot  discover  the  trouble,  I 
will  cable  to  headquarters  at  home  and  we  will 
see  if  you  are  right,  and  the  invention  is  a  failure. 
If  you  have  made  such  a  discovery,  I  should  not 
like  to  say  how  many  thousands  of  dollars  the 
company  has  lost.  But  you  may  be  sure  the 
'Frontinac'  will  scrap  it  quicker  than  they  in- 
stalled it." 

I  had  gone  to  the  "Holland,"  which  Ruth  scorns, 
and  I  must  say  that,  in  my  frame  of  mind  at  the 
time,  I  did  not  find  the  voices  of  my  fellow 
countrymen  soothing !  A  number  of  people  were 
gathered  in  the  great  room  under  the  glass  dome, 
having  afternoon  tea,  when  a  small  boy  appeared 
in  the  doorway  and  called  out  in  a  shrill  voice: 
"Mummer,  pop  says  can't  you  get  a  move  on.^^" 
Mununer  was  fat  and  slow,  but  she  did  get  the 
move  on,  and,  what  must  have  been  a  rehef  to 
the  rest  of  the  company,  her  son  did  the  samel 
I  thought  with  regret  of  the  dear  little  children 
[  224  ] 


'ONE  EVERY  MINUTE" 


at  Llandino,  and  wished  we  might  devote  a  little 
more  time  to  voice  culture.  At  that  moment  a 
page  passed  through,  saying  very  quietly — so 
different  from  our  "paging"  at  home:  "Mr.  Dob- 
son,  if  you  please;  Mr.  Dobson,  if  you  please," 
and  when  he  came  opposite  where  I  was  sitting, 
I  did  "please,"  and  he  handed  me  a  telegram. 
It  was  from  Ruth,  saying  that  she  and  her  sister 
were  at  a  small  hotel  in  Kensington,  and  asking 
me  to  join  them.  But  of  what  Ruth  told  me 
when  I  reached  there  I  will  tell  you  after  I  have 
finished  the  story  of  the  self-starter. 

Three  anxious  days  passed,  and  I  again  pre- 
sented myself  at  the  garage.  I  noticed  that  every 
one  who  saw  me  grinned,  which  did  not  make  me 
feel  better  disposed  toward  the  company.  When 
the  manager  appeared — he,  too,  was  smiling — I 
said:     "Have  you  found  the  trouble?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  "the  battery  had  run 
down." 

"So  I  suppose,"  I  replied,  with  biting  sarcasm. 
"Have  you  found  the  leak?" 

"Yes,  the  engineer  found  it  as  soon  as  we  told 
him  that  the  battery  ran  down  forty-eight  hours 
after  charging." 

"Will  it  work  now?" 

"Like  new;  would  you  like  to  try  it?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  but  without  enthusiasm. 
But  I  no  sooner  pressed  the  pedal  than  the  cheer- 
[  225  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

ful  hum  which  had  first  attracted  me  was  heard, 
and  the  engine  began  to  tm-n  over. 

"How  do  I  know  that  it  will  work  twenty-four 
hours  from  now?"  I  asked. 

"You  don't,  but  we  will  guarantee  it,  with 
reasonable  care." 

"All  right,"  I  said.  "And  now  what  do  I 
owe  you.^^" 

"That  depends  upon  you,"  said  the  cheerful 
manager.  "If  you  will  let  us  pubhsh  this  story 
in  our  trade  journal,  and  sign  your  name  to  it, 
we  will  gladly  remit  the  bill." 

"I  don't  think  I  understand,"  said  I,  with  con- 
siderable dignity.     "What  story .^" 

"The  story  of  the  car  that  was  charged  five 
times  in  two  weeks,  and  ran  down  each  time 
forty-eight  hours  later." 

"WeU,  whatof  it.:>" 

"This  of  it.  That  I  suppose  it  is  the  first  time 
in  the  history  of  motoring,  in  which  the  headlights 
have  been  left  on  for  three  weeks,  burning  night  and 
day!  " 

Yes,  that  is  what  had  happened.  The  weather 
being  continuously  rainy  in  Ireland,  I  had  covered 
the  headhghts  so  snugly  that  no  light  seeped 
through  the  covers,  and  then  must  carelessly 
have  touched  the  button  which  fights  them,  and 
so  had  been  exhausting  the  current  as  fast  as  it 
[  226  ] 


ANGLIA  OR  FRONTENAC? 


could  be  generated  II!    I  paid  my  bill  and  kept 
the  story  for  you  I 

The  manager  evidently  felt  he  "owed  me  one," 
for,  as  he  handed  me  the  receipt  he  said:  "I  am 
sorry  you  would  not  let  us  have  that  story  to 
print.  I  was  thinking  of  calling  it  *One  Every 
Minute/" 


XXXVII 

ANGLIA  OR  FRONTENAC? 

You  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  the  car  is 
on  the  dock  at  Tilbury,  boxed  and  waiting  for 
the  Georgic  to  sail,  and  that  we  are  returning  on 
the  Adriatic  in  about  a  week  I 

"What  has  happened?"  I  can  imagine  you  say- 
ing. WeU,  so  much  has  happened  that  I  hardly 
know  where  to  begin  I 

What  do  you  suppose  Ruth  had  to  tell  me 
when  I  reached  the  hotel?  Perhaps  you  have 
guessed.  Yes,  our  dearest  hopes  are  at  length — 
please  God — to  be  realized. 

Ruth  had  not  been  quite  like  herself  since  the 
breakdown  at  Ross,  and  had  written  Maud,  who, 
at  once  said  there  was  but  one  man  in  the  world 
for  her  to  see — you  know  what  women  are  about 
their  pet  doctors  I  So,  as  you  already  have  been 
[  227  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

told,  Maud  hastened  to  Barchester,  I  was  bundled 
out  of  the  way,  and  the  two  sisters  came  to  town 
and  saw  the  great  man. 

"He  was  perfectly  lovely,"  said  Ruth  to  me, 
her  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"How  old  is  he.*^"  I  suspiciously  asked. 

"He  looked  hke  papa,"  said  Ruth,  and  burst 
into  tears. 

Well,  the  important  matter  is  that  he  told  her 
she  was  not  mistaken  but  urged  her  to  take  great 
care  of  herself. 

She  asked  if  she  might  motor  ? 

"It  would  be  better,"  he  replied,  for  her  to 
"job  a  brougham,"  while  she  was  in  town,  be- 
cause the  taxi  men  drove  so  recklessly. 

"But  what  about  motoring  in  the  country?" 

"With  a  very  careful  driver,  and  on  smooth 
roads  I  should  have  no  objection  to  a  few  miles 
a  day.  But,  indeed,  you  cannot  be  too  care- 
ful." 

When  I  heard  that  I  turned  cold !  "A  careful 
driver  and  smooth  roads!"  I  thought  of  the 
hill  at  Sawley  and  the  sidewalk  at  Shrewsbury, 
the  "narrer  road"  in  Ireland  with  the  leap  to 
the  top  of  the  hedge,  and  of  the  railway  crossing  I 

I  hurried  to  the  garage  and  drove  the  car — not 
across  London  this  time,  but — around  it,  and  came 
to  Tilbury  as  soon  as  I  could.  I  was  afraid  the 
[  228  ] 


ANGLIA  OR  FRONTENAC? 


car  might  do  us  an  injury  if  it  were  not  quickly 
boxed ! 

So  our  journey  has  come  to  an  unexpected  end, 
and  you  will  have  to  read  no  more  letters,  for  we 
shall  be  home,  I  hope,  almost  as  soon  as  this 
reaches  you.  Now  that  my  face  is  turned  home- 
ward I  am  impatient  to  arrive.  I  want  to  see 
the  dear  people  and  to  get  to  work  once  more  on 
the  noisy  old  comer.  And,  above  all,  I  want  to 
drop  into  the  study  after  working  hours — say 
between  eleven  and  twelve  at  night,  and  when 
the  pipes  are  drawing  well,  listen  to  you  talk. 
"No,"  I  can  fancy  you  saying,  "you  don't  want 
to  hsten,  you  want  to  talk ! " 

Well,  perhaps  both!  But  before  I  see  you  I 
want  to  make  a  sort  of  Apologia  for  the  letters  I 
have  written  you. 

I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  flippant  they  must 
have  seemed.  But,  indeed,  while  I  dwelt  upon 
the  ridiculous  side,  thinking  it  might  amuse  you 
in  your  temporary  bhndness,  you  will  not  think 
so  ill  of  me  as  to  suppose  that  I  am  unable  to  ap- 
preciate the  most  wonderful  people  in  history — 
bar  one!  though  the  best  in  that  one  came  out 
of  this  little  island.  As  the  writer  of  the  Epistles 
to  the  Hebrews  might  have  said:  "America  was 
in  the  loins  of  England  when  the  foundations  of 
democracy  were  laid !" 

[  229  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

We  Americans  see  the  humorous  side  of  the 
feudal  system  which  survives  in  the  domestic  Hfe 
of  England,  but  no  thoughtful  man  can  fail  to  be 
filled  with  admiration  for  the  way  England  has 
guarded  the  "rights  of  man"  far  better  than  they 
are  guarded  with  us. 

The  rights  of  the  minority  are  disregarded  with 
us,  but  in  England  it  is  not  so.  It  is  not  so 
much  a  deliberate  spirit  of  compromise  which 
is  the  source  of  England's  strength,  but  rather 
an  automatic  arrangement  which  nature  directs 
toward  compensation.  Just  as — I  think  I  have 
said  this  before,  but  no  matter — ^in  a  pendulum 
there  are  metals  of  different  expanding  degrees, 
so  in  England  the  individual  is  merged  in  the 
family  to  an  extent  we  can  hardly  imagine,  be- 
cause with  us  the  intense  individuality  of  the 
people  shows  itself  in  the  family  in  such  a  way 
that  it  is  a  question  how  long  the  family  can  exist. 
On  the  other  hand,  in  England,  when  the  indi- 
vidual does  emerge  from  the  family,  he  becomes 
far  more  of  a  pohtical  personahty  than  with  us. 

Then  see  how  much  we  have  to  learn  from  them 
in  the  matter  of  education.  I  have  no  doubt  our 
pubhc  schools  are  superior  to  the  EngHsh  board 
schools.  But  when  it  comes  to  the  education  of 
those  who  ought  to  be  the  leaders  of  the  people, 
we  cannot  compare  with  them.  Boys  sent  to 
[  230  ] 


ANGLIA  OR  FRONTENAC? 


Winchester,  Eton,  Harrow,  Rugby  and  other 
great  "public"  schools  may  not  have  the  variety 
of  studies  of  which  our  boys  get  a  smattering, 
but  how  much  better  are  their  minds  trained  than 
are  our  boys' !  There  is  a  popular  outcry  just 
now  about  the  time  wasted  on  the  "dead"  lan- 
guages. But  it  is  forgotten  that,  apart  from  the 
benefit  that  comes  from  knowing  the  best  that  the 
ancient  world  thought,  the  pubKc  school  man  has 
learned  to  use  his  Greek  and  Latin  as  "top  dress- 
ing" to  enrich  his  style,  and  so  is  able  to  express 
himself  in  a  clear  and  concise  way  which  is  the 
envy  of  all  students  of  speech. 

Undoubtedly,  this  education  has  been  too  much 
the  privilege  of  the  favored  few,  but  on  the  other 
hand  it  has  tended  to  instil  a  sense  of  responsibihty 
to  the  conrnoiunity  which  has  given  England  the 
services  of  her  most  cultivated  men,  while  we  have 
had  to  put  up  with  the  "professional  poHtician." 

What  England  will  do  when  democracy  claims 
the  right  to  share  the  best,  remains  to  be  seen. 
But  that  it  has  an  immense  advantage  in  having 
already  set  a  high  standard,  no  thoughtful  man 
can  deny.  However,  these  are  questions  I  must 
save  to  talk  about  when  we  meet,  which  I  am  glad 
to  think  will  be  soon. 

I  tell  Ruth  that,  if  it  is  a  girl,  she  must  be  called 
"AngKa";  if  a  boy,  we  must  name  him  "Fron- 
[231  ] 


ENGLISH  WAYS  AND  BY-WAYS 

tenac."  But  she  has  settled  the  matter  and,  as 
usual,  I  submit.  She  says:  "His  name  shall  be 
called  John." 

Well,  I  cannot  but  think  he  will  be  born  under 
an  auspicious  star,  for  his  life  began  on  our  happy, 
sunny  day  1 


[  232  ] 


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